


Vetito

by DragQueenCas, ShatteredGlassHouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom!Cas, Dirty Talk, Drama, Drug Use, Episode: s09e07 Bad Boys, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Impala Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Top Dean, boys home owner!dean, light light bondage, top!dean, troubled!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 98,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragQueenCas/pseuds/DragQueenCas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredGlassHouse/pseuds/ShatteredGlassHouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S9: Bad Boys AU. Dean owns a boys' home, and Castiel, after some unfortunate events, is sent to live with him. Right away both of them feel the undeniable chemistry between them. What should only be a strictly professional relationship, turns into something much more forbidden.  (Formally know as 'Safe With You').</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dean and Castiel are in a forbidden relationship. And no matter how many times Dean pushes Cas, the boy fights back just as hard. As Dean struggles with how morally wrong their affair is, Castiel struggles to figure out the man who too him in.
> 
> This story can be looked at as underage, which is why I put the warning up. However, where I live, it can be looked at as (technically) legal, so take it as you want. Dean is 26 and Castiel is 17. I will also posting warnings before each chapter, so you'll know what to expect.
> 
> Thank you to my two betas: waatp and BecauseI'mBatman for looking over helping with the editing!
> 
> And a very special thank you to the lovely DragQueenCas over on LiveJournal for co-writing this story with me! Thank you so much for taking this journey with me and being so patient while I put together and edited this story.
> 
> I also looked over the chapters myself, as did dragqueencas, but if there are any mistakes we missed, I apologize.
> 
> Warnings: masturbation

Dean and Castiel are in a forbidden relationship. And no matter how many times Dean pushes Cas, the boy fights back just as hard. As Dean struggles with how morally wrong their affair is, Castiel struggles to figure out the man who too him in. This story can be looked at as underage, which is why I put the warning up. However, where I live, it can be looked at as (technically) legal, so take it as you want. Dean is 26 and Castiel is 17.

I will also posting warnings before each chapter, so you'll know what to expect.

Thank you to my two betas: waatp and BecauseI'mBatman for looking over helping with the editing! I also looked over the chapters myself, as did dragqueencas, but if there are any mistakes we missed, I apologize.

And a very special thank you to the lovely dragqueencas over on LiveJournal for co-writing this story with me! Thank you so much for taking this journey with me and being so patient while I put together and edited this story.

Warnings: masturbation

* * *

 Dean stood on the front porch, waiting for the new arrival to come. The Sheriff had contacted him last night to let him know a new boy would be coming. All he knew about the boy was that he was 17 and had been caught stealing food from a local gas station. It was the same old song. A boy abandoned by his family, wandering around until someone found him. It was the same for all the other boys.

Castiel sat petulantly in the back seat of the squad car. He wasn't happy about having to live at a boy’s home, relying on other people to provide him with what he needed. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself. And if he hadn't gotten himself caught in his one moment of desperation, he'd be sitting at the public library, enjoying his gas station pre-made meal and reading a big fat book. Instead, he was on his way to _Winchesters' Home for Boys_. Ugh. Though the name made the teen cringe, he supposed he was glad for the ultimatum the court gave him. He'd rather this than Juvie.

The cop’s car was soon pulling up in front of Dean’s house and a gruff looking officer climbed out of his seat and walked over to the back door.

“Out!” the man snapped to the boy in the back.

A teen boy with unruly dark hair climbed out of the back and looked up at the house. Dean noticed the boy looked completely normal, aside from the handcuffs, but didn’t look roughed up like most boys when they first came here. Most boys would have been involved in fights, thus, sending them here. This boy almost looked out of place.

The boy’s eyes wandered, taking in everything, scrutinizing what would be his new home. Then, his eyes landed on Dean and it felt like a punch to the stomach. They were the most intense and deep shade of blue that Dean had ever seen. The way the boy was looking at Dean, staring straight into his eyes, was like he was looking into his soul.

Castiel looked up at the big old house, noting where windows were so he could make escape plans. His eyes ran over the figure standing on the porch, and something drew his eyes back to it. He gasped quietly at the ray of sunshine staring down at him. This guy had to be one of the Winchester brothers, the guys who ran the place. Castiel took in the stance of the young man; posture straight and proud, legs bowed slightly, and arms resting on the railing. His eyes were moss green and Castiel swore he'd dream about rainforests tonight. The cop who brought him here was talking, but neither Castiel nor the Winchester seemed to be listening.

Dean swallowed hard and licked his lips when Castiel continued to stare at him. God, the boy was gorgeous. And so wrong! Dean’s mind was screaming at him, reminding him he was the boy’s new guardian, he couldn’t think about what those eyes looked like with nothing but passion and lust in them; damn it!

“Dean Winchester?” a harsh voice broke his inner struggle. Dean blinked and realized the cop was still there, watching him. ‘Shit,’ Dean thought, not realizing he had zoned out.

“Officer Collins,” Dean greeted curtly.

The officer nodded and walked up the porch steps, practically dragging the boy with him. “This is Castiel Novak. I assume you got the papers we sent over to you.” Dean nodded, he had. There were about three pages of basic information about Castiel, but the odd thing was there wasn’t any information about his past or any previous felonies—this guy almost didn’t belong here.

It took Castiel a few moments to register that the officer was pulling him up the stairs, so his feet shuffled through the dusty grass and he nearly tripped over them. He just couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's face; Dean, as the cop had said. Even after he had turned to talk to the officer. Castiel stared and stared, counting the freckles on Dean's cheeks, his heart beating frantically at the close proximity. He wondered if the man was into younger guys.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Dean suggested, still feeling the intense gaze of the boy’s eyes on his face. “Get everything finalized.” The officer nodded and started pulling Castiel again. Dean felt bad for the guy, he wasn’t not cooperating, but the officer was treating him as such.

Dean led them through the door and over to a large opening to the left, showing the living room. He gestured to the brown couch, pushed up against the large bay window, looking out onto the porch and yard for Castiel and the officer to sit. Dean sat in a recliner that matched the couch, which was opposite to Castiel, giving Dean a great opportunity to watch him without suspicion.

As the three sat in the living room discussing final hand-overs and official papers and whatnot, Castiel took the time to really scrutinize Dean. Every so often, the man would glance his way. Sometimes he gave a small smile, sometimes he flicked his eyes straight back to the officer. Always, his green eyes glinted with something Castiel couldn't quite place.

* * *

 

After all the paper work was signed and the officer had driven away, Castiel stood awkwardly in the doorway of the living room. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he knew he wanted to get out.

“Okay, Castiel,” Dean declared, moving back into the living room, after walking the officer out. “I guess I’ll introduce myself. I’m Dean Winchester. Just call me Dean, no need for Sir, Mr. Winchester or anything like that; I’m not that old.” Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “I own this house with my brother Sam. He’s in school at the moment, so he’s not around as often. You’ll also meet Kevin; he helps out here. He’s a cool guy.” Dean smiled at Castiel, hoping he was easing the boy’s nerves a bit. “I went to a home like this when I was younger.” Dean didn’t know why he was revealing this information; he never divulged his story to any of the boys. “I didn’t like it, but the owner, Sonny, he-he helped me.”

Castiel tilted his head slightly, wondering what made Dean open up to him so quickly. Maybe he should stay a while to figure this man out.

“Okay, D-Dean.” He stumbled on the word, not used to being permitted to using an adult's first name. He'd spent most of the past few years around cops and lawyers and social workers.

Despite his plans to escape ASAP, Castiel could feel himself warming up to the green-eyed man, and boy did that have to stop. “

See, not so hard.” Dean returned Castiel’s smile, happy that the boy seemed to be warming up to him. He couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to know Castiel. He knew why Castiel was here, but he didn’t know what lead to the theft—to him breaking when he had such a clean record compared to most of the boys here. But he wouldn’t push the boy, he’d let him open up in his own time. “

“Okay, Castiel,” Dean said, standing in the middle of the living room entrance way. “How about a tour? Let you get to know this place?”

“Okay," the boy replied and followed Dean as he led Castiel through the house, showing him the kitchen, the dining room and the bathrooms. He was told of the chores he would have to do to earn his keep, which he didn't mind. Finally, they reached one of the bedrooms, which he would be sharing with two other boys close to his age. He was told he would meet them soon enough.

“This is your room,” Dean announced when they stepped in front of a closed door on the second level. “You’ll be sharing with Benjamin and Luke. You’ll meet everyone later, but I’m going to let you get settled first.”

Dean walked into the room, which was fairly large and had two beds pushed to the left side wall and two pushed to the right—Cas’ clearly not occupied. There were two small dressers against the far side of the room below the window. “You can choose one of these two beds,” Dean said, pointing to the two beds on the left.

Castiel nodded his thanks and walked tentatively over to the beds, where he placed his small knapsack containing what few possessions he had beneath the bed closest to the door.

Dean watched Castiel walk over to a bed, placing his things on the mattress. He then started peeling at the old tape with names of its past owners. Dean suddenly got a flashback of himself, only 16, walking carefully to a bed, while Sonny, the man who owned the house watched him. Castiel’s movements were eerily similar to his own.

Castiel peered at the name written on electrical tape attached to the end of the bed. It was worn and scratched, so he could not read the words.

“Do I get to put my name on this bed, Dean?" he asked softly, his head turned towards where Dean was still standing at the door.

He didn’t realize Castiel had spoken until he saw the piercing blue eyes stare at him again. “Wha-oh,” Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah. One moment,” he replied, sounding a little flustered and quickly walked to his room to get the tape and a marker. “Here.” He handed the objects to Castiel upon his return.

Castiel took them from Dean with another nod of thanks and peeled the tape from its place on the roll. He stuck the adhesive side to the bed reverently, gently pressing down the corners. He started to write his name, and then realized he was writing too big and didn't have room for his whole name. He sighed and begrudgingly stopped writing; capping the lid and handing the tape and pen back to Dean. He glanced over at the tape, eyeing the messy scrawl of “Cas" written in stark black ink. "At least now people won't get confused," he mused, remembering all the botched attempts at pronouncing his name made by every DA and cop in the tri-state area.

“So, Castiel,” Dean said, taking the tape and marker from the boy. “Do you want something to drink or eat? The boys just had lunch, but I can make up something.” Dean watched the boy, waiting for his answer.

“Uh, sure, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Dean.”

“Great!” Dean exclaimed and led the way downstairs. Castiel followed the man back downstairs to the kitchen, where Dean started preparing a meal for the boy. Now that he thought about it, Castiel was fairly hungry. He hadn't eaten since his trial the day before.

“You’ll soon come to realize that you’ll prefer my cooking over Sammy’s. I actually make edible food, and not the rabbit shit he prefers,” Dean explained, looking over his shoulder at Castiel. “So, what do you want? Sandwich? Burger? Salad?” Dean made a statement with his face at the mention of salad. Dean gestured to the kitchen table, silently telling Castiel to take a seat and he would do the work.

“Actually, I haven't had a burger in years,” Castiel said quietly, staring at the wood ingrain of the table. He had come to terms with his sporadic homelessness, but he still felt some embarrassment while talking to people about it.

“You’re kidding?” Dean asked rhetorically, looking at the boy with shock. He wasn’t trying to be condescending, but it just surprised him. “Well,” he said, pulling a patty from the fridge, “We’re going to change that.” Dean grabbed a bun and the toppings left over from lunch, and placed them on the counter.

He pulled out an electric grill and turned it on. It was too much work to turn the BBQ on for one burger. “So, Castiel,” Dean started after a few moments of silence. He turned away from the grill and looked over at the boy. He could see the other boys, working out in the yard, through the large window behind the table. “Do you like sports?” Dean knew it was a stupid question, but he wanted to get to know the new boy.

“Uh, no, I don't," Castiel replied. He was going to leave it at that, but something compelled him to share with this man. It may have been a generic question, but Dean genuinely seemed to care. “I read a lot. And if I have the materials, I like to paint.” He said this hurriedly, trying to evade as much tension as possible. “You uh, you can just call me Cas, if you like," he muttered as a second thought. “If it's easier, I mean.” He went back to staring at the table.

“Cas,” Dean said, trying out the name. “I like it,” he said, smiling over at the boy. “So, you read. What do you like to read?” Dean pulled a small container of fries from the fridge and placed them in the little toaster oven next to the grill.

Castiel's head darted up at the sound of Dean testing his name. He grinned and blushed when Dean smiled at him and dropped his head again. “Uhh, I like a lot of old literature. Like Victor Hugo and Charlotte Bronte and Edgar Allen Poe." Dean nodded approvingly as Castiel listed off names. Those were some unusual names for a 17-year-old boy. Cas let the silence sit for a while before he ventured a question for Dean. “D-do you like s-sports?"

Dean was just flipping the fries when Castiel spoke up. “I do,” he admitted. “I don’t play, though. I did when I was younger, but I prefer to watch now.” He smiled, remembering the few memories of him and Sam playing football in an open field, during one of their dad’s disappearances. “Sometimes the boys put together a game and we watch some games on TV.”

Castiel smiled politely, picking at a loose string in his too-large t-shirt. This was one of the few items he had, along with a few stolen library books.

Dean slid the burger off the grill and onto the bun. “Do you want anything on your burger?” Dean held up the burger, showing it to Castiel and placed it on the counter, waiting for the fries to finish.

The boy's head shot up again. He seemed surprised to be acknowledged. He guessed that's what happened when one spent most of his life invisible.

Dean nodded and placed a slice of cheese on the meat and placed the finished fries on the plate. “Here you go.” Dean placed the plate in front of Castiel. “What would you like to drink?”

“Water is fine, thank you," Castiel uttered before unceremoniously shoving the burger into his mouth. He managed about a third of its mass before he had to bite down. Even after this, he still fit seven fries in next to the meat and bread. Cas hummed appreciatively, bordering on sexually, at the taste of his first burger in three years. He tried to tell Dean as such, but all he managed was a gurgling harrumphing sound around the mass of food.

Dean went over to the cupboard, pulled out a glass and filled it with water. When he handed the drink to Castiel, the boy was already halfway through his burger. Dean would have enjoyed the fact that Castiel was enjoying his meal, had it not been for the sounds, the moans. They sent a shiver down Dean's spine, and a familiar pull in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but let thoughts in of what Castiel might sound like making those noises for something other than a burger.

Castiel shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth, chewed messily and swallowed greedily before gulping down his entire glass of water.

"These make me very happy, Dean," Castiel said reverently, gazing up into the older man's eyes. There, he saw the glint again. He still could not place what it was.

Dean had to fight the urge to lean forward and lick a stray drop of water running down the boy's chin. “I'm glad, Cas," he said, needing something to distract him. “Tell me a bit more about yourself.” It may have been to distract Dean, but he really did want to learn more about Castiel. Most boys, when they were handed over to the Winchesters, had a fairly decent sized file. Dean didn’t really need to ask a lot of questions; but Castiel, Castiel was a mystery.

“There's not much to tell," Cas said, licking his lips, raking in the leftover taste of meat coating his skin. “I never knew my dad. My mom got into heroin and was killed by her dealer. I've been on the streets ever since. When I was younger, people would pity me and give me money and food. But as I got older, more man than boy, people just ignored my existence.” Cas paused for a moment, fiddling with his shirt. He wondered why he was revealing so much about himself so quickly, and found he couldn't stop. Dean just emanated ‘safe’ from his very being. “I slept in public libraries, homeless shelters, and empty houses for sale. Anywhere I would go unnoticed. I hadn't eaten in a week when I stole that food from the gas station. I was messy when I did it, wasn't able to run because I had no energy. I passed out and woke up in a jail cell. The trial happened, and here we are.”

Dean remained silent as Castiel told his sad tale. He had heard it before, every boy’s tale was different, but always linking them all in the end. “That’s a lot for a boy to go through,” Dean said softly, looking at Cas’ face, which held no emotions. He guessed Cas was used to reliving the tale over and had built up an armour against it. “No one deserves to go through that; I’m sorry.” Dean tried to not look or sound like he was pitying the boy; he knew what it was like to receive pity and he didn’t want Castiel to feel the same way. “But you don’t have to worry about that now; you have a home now.” Dean tried to smile and sound encouraging, but he was reserved a bit; he didn’t want to offend Castiel.

Castiel sighed, the weight of his story finally lifted after so many years. All it took was one person to care enough to listen. He had nodded in thanks at Dean's words, his lip trembling slightly. He was overwhelmed by relief, acceptance and indiscriminate care. His eyes welled up and he hung his head once more, a silent tear sliding down his cheek. He'd barely been there an hour and he was already crying in front of a beautiful man who Castiel was meant to see as his guardian.

Dean was used to seeing the boys that came to him cry. It had been uncomfortable at first, but now, after a few years of doing this, Dean was fairly confident in his comforting skills. “Well,” Dean said, breaking the silence with a cheery tone, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s your first day here; I’m not going to make you do any work.” Dean smiled at Castiel, whose eyes were now sparkling because of the tears, looking beautiful. “What do you want to do?”

Cas swiped at his tears, a hot flush gracing his cheeks with embarrassment. He sniffled once, twice, and then looked directly at Dean. He was confident for a maximum of three seconds before he folded. “I-I don't kn-know," he stammered, giving a nonchalant shrug. He had wanted to seduce Dean, but he supposed that could take some time, and considering his display not moments ago, he wasn't sure if Dean would find him attractive with tears on his face.

“Well, it’s up to you,” Dean offered, not wanting to put any reserve in his offer, however, he would not tolerate drinking. “What about we get you some clothes?” It could have been seen as an obscene offer, but more boys than not came to him with very little possessions. It was almost standard that he gets each new boy some new clothes.

“I- uh-Y-yes, yes that would be nice. Thank you, Dean.” Castiel had been expecting a lot of words, but somehow, the ones that escaped Dean's lips, were not what he anticipated. He was excited all the same, no matter how mundane of an event it seemed.

“Great. Sam will be here in about an hour,” Dean said, looking at his watch. “Once he gets here, we’ll go.” Dean smiled at Castiel, feeling slightly excited about going shopping with the boy. This wasn’t a gesture he was new to, but he had never had this feeling before about taking the new kid out; to get the chance to see Castiel in some—perhaps better fitting clothes. God, he felt like such a pervert, but those thoughts didn’t stop a rush of thoughts of Castiel in his clothing.

“S-so, what do we d-do for a whole uh...hour?" Castiel struggled to get the words out, internally cursing himself. He wanted that to sound alluring. He knew he'd get nowhere if he kept being such a geek. Dean would probably show more interest in someone who shared his like of sports, not some homeless, weedy, dorky guy he had to provide for.

“We can look around the different shops. There are a few discount shops around here." Dean smiled and took Castiel's dishes to the sink. He rinsed the plate underneath the running water.

Truthfully, Dean usually wasn't this open with the other boys. He normally gave them a couple of hours to pick a few things and then go, but with Cas, Dean felt a need to be around him.

“Do you want to go meet the others?” Dean asked. “Or you can do that later.”

“I'm sure we will acquaint ourselves later," Castiel replied. “I'd like to spend more time with you, if that's okay.” The boy's head was down, but his eyes were staring up at Dean through his lashes. He batted his lids gently and tilted his head to the side, hoping to get a reaction.

Dean swallowed thickly and looked at Cas. God, the kid didn't know how fucking beautiful he looked like that—so innocent and seductive. He felt dirty when he felt his pants grow slightly tighter, but God, it was welcomed.

“Sure, Cas," Dean said after a few seconds, but what felt like minutes of silence. "Whatever you want."

Dean's pause was noticeable, but not as much as the glance he raked over Castiel.

“Great," was all he said, before he shuffled past Dean and out of the room. Dean took a moment before following Castiel into the living room.

Castiel crossed the hall into the living room where he saw an old piano before. He sat silently before the keys and glanced up at where Dean was standing in the doorway. “May I play?" he asked, letting a corner of his mouth come up slightly.

“You play?" Dean asked interested, looking from the piano to the boy.

“Yeah," Cas replied. “I mean, I haven't since I was a kid, but I think I can remember.

Dean nodded and just shrugged. “It hasn't been played in a while; probably out of tune, but go ahead.” Dean gestured for Castiel to go for it. The piano, aside from moving from its original post, hadn't been touched since his mother died.

The teen placed his hands reverently on the keys, trying to choose a song to play for Dean. He played a few warm up scales, reveling in the sound that filled the room, before deciding on a Missy Higgins song. He played the first few bars before humming along, grinning to himself.

“I've still got it,” Cas thought.

Dean stood in the entrance way, listening to Castiel play. It was nice, getting to hear the soft tune of the piano again; and Castiel was pretty good. "How long did you play for?" Dean found himself asking, curious to find out more about the boy.

Castiel looked over at Dean, but continued playing, the music a nice backing track to the conversation. "Since I can remember," he said. "My mother taught me when she was still sober. I think I was four.”

Dean smiled at the thought of a little Castiel, sitting at the piano trying to learn, but the thought was soon tainted by what he revealed about his mother. It was tragic; Dean knew what it was like growing up with an alcoholic; his father. It had been what sent him to the boys’ home in the first place. Dean wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Should he apologize? But he didn't know what Cas’ relationship with his family had been. So he settled with, "You play well.”

"Oh, I'm nothing compared to what my mother could do," he said quietly. Thinking about his mother made him retreat back into himself, and he stopped playing, staring at the keys as if they would bite him.

"Well, I'm impressed you were able to get a tune out of that old thing," Dean said. He then realized the boy had stopped playing. He worried, feeling guilty that it had been something he said. He was about to say something else when he heard the familiar crunch of gravel. "Sammy's here.”

Castiel glanced up at Dean, who had turned toward the hallway now to greet his brother.

“Hey there, Sammy," Dean greeted his brother and pulled him in for a hug.

Castiel thought the younger Winchester would have looked more like Dean. Instead, he was shocked to see that Sam towered over Dean, with long hair and long arms and long pretty much everything else. The differences between the brothers were endless, but the love they shared in just a greeting was something to admire.

“Dean," Sam chuckled, but responded to the hug. “It's only been two weeks.”

“Shut it, bitch. It's about time you showed your face here, Kevin's been stuck taking on your work and his.”

Sam just rolled his eyes and chuckled. He looked over to see Castiel standing off to the side. Sam cleared his throat at tilted his head towards Castiel.

Dean turned and looked at Castiel. “Oh, right," Dean said, catching the hint. “This is Castiel, the new addition I told we were getting. Castiel-" Dean turned to look at the boy “-This is my brother, Sammy.” Dean clasped Sam's shoulder, smiling proudly at his brother

Sam looked on as Castiel fidgeted on the piano bench. It was odd seeing someone sitting there—Dean never let any of the boys anywhere near it. Why was Castiel near it?

Castiel felt like he was intruding. He was still sitting at the piano, and he wasn't sure how the younger man felt about a stranger touching his dead mother's things. He stood quickly and raised his hand awkwardly. “Hey, hi, uhh, Mr. Winchester," he stumbled out.

He was about to throw his brother a questing glance, but Castiel then spoke up, pulling the younger man’s attention to the newcomer. S

am cracked a large smile at Castiel’s formality. “It’s just Sam, Castiel. No need for titles.” However, Sam did shake the boy’s hand to make him feel more welcomed.

Castiel already warmed to Sam. He was a giant ray of sunshine wrapped in puppies wrapped in babies laughing. Castiel felt his bad mood fading away and a warmth spread through him. These men would look after him. He was safe and wanted here.

“So, I was going to take Cas to get a few things,” Dean spoke, after the introductions were done. “You don’t mind staying here with the boys for a few hours, right? They’re just in the back doing yard work.”

“Nah, go ahead,” Sam said, moving away from the doorway. “I can handle things here.”

“Great,” Dean smiled and turned to Cas. “Want to get going now?”

Dean's question broke his reverie. "Yeah, sure, thanks. It was nice meeting you, Sam.”

“You, too, Castiel,” Sam said and watched as his brother and Castiel walked out of the door. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he saw his brother’s gaze linger on Castiel’s face when he asked his question. But it wasn’t just a friendly gaze, it was intense eye contact; neither one blinked until Sam responded to Castiel.

Dean led Castiel out to a large shed, which could probably pass as a small barn, where an old, black car was parked.

“Oh my God," Castiel gasped and stopped in his tracks. “This is _not_ your car!" He was enthralled, and felt like a teenage girl. But the car was beautiful; sleek and shiny, well cared for and immaculate. He could see his reflection in the paint.

“This is Baby,” Dean introduced, running a hand along the hood, almost caressing it. “She was my dad’s, but I got her when he died.” He unlocked the doors so they both could get in. Sam always made fun of him and what he called a borderline love affair with his car, but he never paid attention and it sent a proud feeling through him from Castiel’s reaction.

“I love her," Castiel blurted out, plastering a hand over his mouth. He wasn't meant to say that, anything but that. Now Dean would think he was a weirdo for liking his car so much. Ugh, he thought to himself. _So stupid, Cas_!

Dean chuckled lightly and smiled at Castiel, something unreadable shining in his eyes. And then the best and worst thing happened - Dean brushed it off. “Don’t let Sammy hear you say that—he’d never let you hear the end of it.” He gave Castiel a wink and slid in behind the wheel. He put the key into the ignition and the car roared to life. “Ready?” he asked.

Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and entered the passenger side. All he could do was nod once the engine was turned on. The rumble of the engine was seductive and Castiel felt his old jeans tightening shamelessly. Dean was attractive, physically and intellectually, and the car was what brought it all together. He wondered how long Dean had owned this car, whether he lived out of it at some point, if he took his kid brother places when they were younger, and Castiel felt like he was sitting inside the man's life. It should've been enough to make him cry, but here he was, being aroused

The loud music of AC/DC blared through the speakers.

“Sorry," Dean said, turning the music down, and giving Castiel a sheepish look. “Used to just driving by myself.” Though that was true, Dean suddenly loved the idea of Castiel riding next to him for some other occasion, especially when the boy looked sexy in his car.

“I don't mind," Castiel rushed to say, finally finding his voice. God, he was gripping the leather seat so tightly, he thought his fingertips would fall off. His dick was practically jumping in his pants. He didn't know how Dean hadn't noticed yet.

Dean noticed Castiel’s ridged posture, but he figured he was just nervous. Hell, if he wasn't feeling the same way, he'd be lying. Seeing Castiel sit next to him, gripping the seats so tightly, imagining the boy gripping _him_ so _tightly_. God, what was wrong with him?

Rumbling along the highway with Dean should have been comforting, relaxing. Instead, the ride was fraught with tension as Cas tried and failed to quell his arousal. He tried staring out the window, but his gaze was always brought back to Dean. He was harder than ever now, and he didn't know what the hell he was going to do.

When they finally reached the store Dean felt relieved and yet very uncomfortable. As the car ride went on, Castiel's posture stayed rigid. He never once let go of the seat and soon images of him with Castiel in the back of the Impala, as the boys nails dug into his shoulders, encouraging Dean’s hard, deep thrusts, crept into his mind. Dean groaned inwardly and hurried out of the car, into the fresh air. God, damn it, he felt so disgusted with his thoughts, but even with his inner berating, he didn't stop himself.

Castiel took a few moments to collect himself when the car stopped. He breathed in and out and willed his erection away, to no avail. He sighed deeply and eased his nails from the upholstery before joining Dean on the sidewalk.

They walked into the closest clothing store.

“Okay." Dean clasped his hands together when they stopped in front of the men's clothing. “Just pick out what you need. You can try them on if you need to," he instructed, trying his best to not stare at Castiel. “I'll be around here if you need anything.” He pointed to another section of the clothing.

Dean saw Castiel nod understandingly and before Castiel could ask if there was a price limit on what to buy, Dean had walked off, leaving Cas alone in front of the men's section. Dean needed some space, some time to clear his head, but having Castiel around was a constant reminder that he needed to be careful in public.

Castiel felt like he'd done something wrong. He brushed the thoughts aside and picked out a few cheap, comfy t-shirts and jeans, going to the changing room to check their fit. He slid his own jeans down his legs once the door was locked and realized he was still achingly hard. He looked around, saw a make-up scarf, and decided it couldn't hurt to release some tension if he was quiet. So he pulled himself out of his boxer briefs and started jacking off slow and long, twisting at the end. He stifled his groans with teeth on his lips and held the make-up scarf in front of his cock so as not to spill. The thrill of getting caught made it all even hotter.

Dean walked around the store for a bit, giving Castiel some space and time for himself. Or so Dean told himself. It was a good distraction for him to not have the piercing blue eyes constantly staring at him, so innocent and trusting. God, those eyes alone were enough to get him inappropriately hard, lusting over the 17-year-old boy.

After 15 minutes, Dean decided to go and check up on the boy. He didn’t see a dark mop of hair amongst the racks, so he figured Castiel was probably in the changing rooms, knowing he couldn’t leave without him. He slipped into the small room. Only one door was closed, which he figured was Castiel’s.

Cas had smoothed his pre-come down his shaft, a slick path for his flying hand. By this point, Cas' hand was a blur over his throbbing member. He was edging closer and closer to his release. He could feel the familiar hot-heaviness in the pit of his stomach, balls tightening, heart rate pounding, and then –

“Castiel?” Dean knocked gently, waiting for an answer.

Cas froze, aching cock in hand. Dean was just outside the door. The object of Castiel's fantasy was right outside. In his split second of confidence, Castiel nearly opened the door and dragged him inside to show Dean how hard he was for the older man. This quickly dissipated though, as fear and anxiety set in. He tucked his still hard dick back into his underwear, unlocked the door and peeked out.

“Hey, sorry," he apologized to Dean, trying to keep his voice under control. Castiel answered almost breathlessly, concerning Dean. He was about to ask if he was alright when the boy pulled open the door and walked out of the room with an armful of clothes. “There was a bit to try on. Everything fits.” He was lying, of course. Everything actually looked a little too big, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that.

Though, Castiel didn’t seem any different, aside from his flushed cheeks. Flushed cheeks? Castiel’s cheeks were tinted pink, which caught Dean’s attention, his eyes raking over his face. God, that colour looked great on him.

He still sounded out of breath when he spoke again and suddenly a realization had hit Dean. The familiar breathlessness and dishevelled look. Had Castiel been…? Dean’s thought trailed off, eyes snapping over to Castiel, walking away with his new clothing. Jesus, he was in trouble.

Castiel shuffled up to the counter, his pile of clothing covering his crotch. He hadn't had time to finish, which meant he was going to be grumpy as hell until he could have a shower.

He turned to Dean, who was a few steps behind, and asked, “I hope all this is okay.” He gestured to the pile he had just placed on the counter. “If it's too much, I can put some back.”

Castiel’s voice drew Dean out of his fantasy and he realized he was standing in front of the counter with Castiel’s picks on it and a young blonde ringing them through.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he reassured the boy, pulling out his wallet. The blonde told them the total and Dean paid for them, grabbing the bags, handing them to Castiel.

* * *

 

The car ride was tense, neither one will to say anything. Dean couldn’t ignore the slight shift Castiel would do in his seat each time they hit a bump. Dean had a faint idea on what was bothering the boy, and it didn’t help the man with his mental or physical state. Dean’s pants were now getting tighter the more Castiel moved, the urge to pull over and drag Castiel into his lap and let the boy grind into him was almost too much.

'Oh God. I'm going to die,' Cas thought to himself, the pressure of his pants around his cock constricting as ever. He didn't know how much longer he could withstand the jolts of the car making him buck up and then back again. He couldn't stop looking at Dean's hands, clenched tight around the steering wheel, knuckles white. He imagined them wrapped around himself, gripping his arms as the older man fucked into the boy. He shook his head, trying and failing to rid his head of his fantasy. Dean was his guardian. His thoughts were the deepest shade of dirty-wrong he could fathom. So why did it feel so right?

Dean was relieved when they reached the road to the house. He was in desperate need of a cold shower and time away from the object of his dirtiest fantasies. He felt disgusted with himself and yet he couldn't bring himself to stop the inner lusting; the thoughts he hadn't had since he was Castiel's age.

Dean struggled to not let a sigh of relief escape his lips, not wanting to offend the boy. He quickly threw the car into park and helped Castiel take his bags into the house.

“You can just put these in your room and then just relax," Dean said, handing Castiel the bags he had taken in. “Dinner will be started shortly, but you still have time to yourself.” With that, Dean hurried up the stairs and into his room, not bothering to let Sam know he was back; his brother could wait.

Dean went into his adjoining bathroom and turned the water on. He intended on it being a cold shower, but he knew what it would become. The picture of a blue-eyed, dark hair boy filled Dean's mind, bringing his already eager cock to further attention. He was now aching hard and throbbing.

Dean wrapped a hand around the length, slowly moving along it, increasing the speed each time, as the pressure built. Low moans and gasps bounced off the tiled walls. Dean squeezed the base, imagining it was Castiel's hand wrapped tightly around his cock, Castiel's fingers running along the slit, smearing the pre-come over the head.

Dean's legs were starting to shake; the pressure in the pit of his stomach growing. “Oh, God!" he cried out, placing his free hand against the wall for support, feeling dangerously close to the edge. He gave a few more strokes, tightening his grip, and let out a cry of the boy’s name as he spilled over his hands and stomach.

* * *

 

Cas clutched his bags tightly to himself and raced up to his room, barely registering Dean's words. He threw his bags down, shut his door and moved the closest dresser over the door, as there wasn’t a lock, so no one could get in. He crawled into bed, kicked off his jeans and started humping into his hand. He breathed out fast and lust-filled groans, sliding his fist up and down his cock to images of Dean touching him. He didn't last long. The tension in the car and his earlier session in the dressing room saw to it that Cas spilled into his hand in a matter of seconds. He lay sated long enough to feel bad about himself before moving to drag the dresser away from the door again. It was going to be a long summer.

Dinner was an interesting affair. The other boys were with them and Sam had decided to join as well. Dean was sat next to his brother and was struggling to not look at Castiel, who was sitting next to Luke two seats across from him.

Sam, being the social person that he was, failed to see the tension between the boy and his brother and kept asking him various questions about himself, trying to get to know him better. They were basic questions about favourite hobbies, food, sports teams, but it was a torturous fifteen minutes for Dean. Every time he heard the gravelly voice, too deep for a boy his age, it would go straight to his cock. It didn't help that when Sam had first addressed Castiel, causing the boy to choke on his water in surprise, his voice had dropped an entire octave and Dean's pants had gotten very tight, despite his session in the shower.

Castiel was fuller than he'd been in a month. The food was delicious and he made a mental note to thank and compliment Kevin on his cooking. During the meal, however, he tried extremely hard to rid Dean from his mind. It didn't work, and he stole glances at the man from across the table, blushing whenever he was caught looking. Sam asking him questions the whole time kept him distracted, however, and he was at least giving coherent answers. Nothing stopped his growing erection, however. Damn teenage recovery times.

Once everyone had finished eating, Dean offered to do the dishes. It was unusual and Sam was suspicious. “Since when do you offer to help? You installed the rule ‘cooker does the dishes’ because you practically see doing nothing as your job.” Sam crossed his arms and looked at his brother accusingly.

“Jesus, Sam," Dean grumbled, and picked up a plate to clean. “You really waste no time trying to deduce my every little movement. What is this, three hours? New record?" Dean glared over ar his brother. "Not everything I do has ulterior motives.”

“Right," Sam dragged put, in a sarcastic tone.

“Fine," Dean snapped, throwing the plate he had been cleaning into the sink. “You finish the dishes.” Dean promptly turned on his heels and stalked out of the room.

Watching Dean blow up like that was both scary and extremely sexy. Castiel felt his heart beat a little quicker and a hot flush rise to his neck and cheeks. A surge of confidence shot through him and this time, he was going to act.

Dean was on edge. Castiel's little glances throughout dinner had wound him up. How the boy would look at him through his lashes to avoid being obvious. It was the real reason Dean opted to do the dishes; to get away from Cas.

Dean stormed up the stairs to his room, ignoring the questioning stares of the boys and just avoiding Castiel, the reason he was in this fucking mess. Castiel pushed out of his chair and raced after Dean. The boy caught him on the top of the stairs. Wordlessly, he dragged Dean by the wrist the rest of the way to Dean's room. Cas' fingers tingled as he finally touched Dean. He shut the door behind them and leaned his back against the wood for a second, staring.

Once they were in Dean’s bedroom, Castiel let go of Dean's wrist and shut the door. He pushed himself against it, faking innocence. It pissed Dean off that Castiel was in his room, taunting him, acting out. Castiel was going against his rules.

Castiel couldn't believe he'd just done that. He was inches away from Dean who was looming over him, an expression mixed between shock and frustration gracing his features. Castiel gulped. Was he in trouble?

Acting on instinct, Dean shoved Castiel hard against his door, the teen's head making a harsh crack against the wood. The boy gasped as his head hit the door and Dean gripped Castiel's hips to keep him from moving and pushed himself against the boy, feeling the bulge strain against the denim of his pants. Without a second thought, Dean pushed into Cas, shoving him harder against the door and claimed his lips in a bruising kiss.

Castiel’s pain was soon forgotten once Dean finally pressed their lips together. He couldn't help letting out a whimper as he relaxed into the man. Was this real? He found his hands snaking up and around Dean's neck, his fingers brushing into his hair.

“You think you are so good at teasing me," Dean growled against the teen's lips, nipping harshly on the bottom. “You think because I've shown you a little attention you can get away with this shit.”

When Dean growled out his frustrations, Castiel just moaned and pushed his hips up, brushing their clothed cocks together and placing a biting kiss to the man's lips, causing Dean to growl.

Dean removed a hand from the teen's hip and snaked it behind Castiel's head, grabbing a fist-full of hair. “I wouldn't do that, Cas," he warned in a low growl, his eyes shining with desire.

Dean trailed his lips down Castiel's neck, giving a harsh tug on the teen's hair, pulling his head back to give him better access. Dean began to suck aggressively at Castiel's pulse point, lapping his tongue over the mark and then biting down hard, but not to draw blood. Castiel was whimpering and shifting, trying to get some friction.

Castiel cried out softly as Dean pulled his head back. He breathed harshly, thrusting minutely, rutting into Dean's thigh. The hot-wet-more feeling on his neck eased with the laving of Dean's tongue, soothing the harsh pain that would no doubt become a hickey. When Dean's teeth sank into his neck, Castiel cried out again. “Dean!" He rolled his hips up again, craving attention to be placed on his cock. “Please, Dean," he murmured. “Please!"

“Shh," Dean soothed, standing up to full height. He gently stroked Castiel's hair. “Patience; we'll get there…later. You should join the other boys now.” Dean smiled darkly and opened the door. He gave Castiel a smug smirk and shoved him out of the room.

All of a sudden, Cas found himself on the other side of Dean's door, a hickey blooming on his neck and a hard cock. ‘That was payback,’ Cas thought to himself. He's punishing me for teasing him. There was no other explanation. Cas refused to believe that Dean just didn't want him, as that would make the last five minutes completely redundant. Instead, Castiel floated back to his own room, high on the feeling of acceptance and being owned. That's what it felt like, being owned; a plaything. He could work with this.

“Fuck,” Dean cursed to himself. As much fun as it was to tease Cas, he was now so rock hard that he doubted a cold shower would fix it. He was seriously contemplating going back out there and just taking Cas, but he couldn’t. He wanted Cas to tease him, to make him feel dirty for wanting a boy almost ten years younger than he.

He also wanted to get to know Cas. Figure out what he liked; what made him scream. Sure, they were in a game of teasing, to see who could break whose restraint first. He would win—that much he was certain. But he was also certain that he wanted Cas and wanted to care for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and read the last chapter. You've really made our day. 
> 
> Here is chapter two. Again, thank you to my betas waatp and BecauseI'mBatman for looking over this chapter for me. Drag Queen Cas and I both did as well. However, if we missed anything we are sorry.
> 
> Warnings: dirty talk, hand jobs and blow jobs

The next morning, Castiel awoke to the sound of light snores coming from the opposite side of the room. His sleep had been restless, plagued with dreams of Dean's rough hands holding him down as his mouth marked him. Cas brought a hand to his neck where Dean had left a mark the night before. The skin was still raised, but only slightly, and it was low enough that it could be covered by a t-shirt.

‘Thank God,’ Cas thought, as he didn't know what he would do if he got kicked out the day after he arrived, for fraternizing with Dean's career, no less. If this were going to continue, they would have to be careful.

Dean wasn't doing as well as the boy, unfortunately. He was irritable after having woken with a hard-on, leading to another session during his morning shower. This time an image of Castiel on his knees sucking him off. He seriously was regretting teasing Cas last night and sending him away. If he hadn't... well, he wouldn't be in this situation.

He made his way downstairs, still pissed. Sam noticed but thankfully didn't comment. He just greeted Dean with a simple “good morning" and continued making breakfast. Unfortunately, though, most of the boys were already at the table, including Cas , making the only seat available was next to the teen boy. Fuck!

When Dean took his seat, Cas was already halfway through his serving of breakfast, deep in conversation with Benny, who sat to his right. He barely noticed another person in the room, what with seven other people present.

Once Benny made one last joke about the horse in the bar, Cas laughed, throwing his head back, which collided with something solid on his left side. He turned to see what had assaulted him, and found himself staring at a shoulder; Dean's shoulder.

“Oh," Castiel mumbled. “Hello, Dean." ‘When did you get here' was the unspoken addition, along with other questions, mostly involving the night before. ‘Why did you do that?’ ‘Why did you turn me out after?’ ‘Did you like it?’ ‘Can we do it again?’ Questions raced around Cas' mind, and he dropped his eyes back down to his plate, reluctantly ignoring the green jewels frowning at him. Cas poked at his food with his fork, his other hand coming up to his neck and cupping it protectively. He wished he could keep that mark. If Dean were to say it would never happen again, he would at least want a memento.

Dean just nodded a ‘hello’ in response to Castiel's greeting, but other than that, the older man kept to himself. Although, he would occasionally let his knee brush against Castiel's or just before he stood up, let his hand brush along Castiel's inner thigh.

Castiel struggled to ignore Dean and focus on his conversation with Benny, especially when Dean was leaving light touches. He was pulled out of his musing when Dean spoke.

“All right," Dean declared when most boys were gone, leaving Castiel alone with him, “Let's go outside and set you up with a job." Dean smiled at Castiel and walked to the back door in the kitchen. Castiel scrambled to follow Dean out into the crisp morning air.

Castiel hadn't realized how beautiful and open the property was. The yard was large, a spread of green. Rolling hills decorated the backdrop and the sun filtered through tall trees and cast the world in an angelic glow. If Castiel had ever dreamed of a home for himself, he would pick a place like this. With Dean and the others' help, maybe he could become a better person, earn his own money and buy a place like this.

“So," Dean said, clasping his hands and turned to look at Castiel. “I didn't really explain this yesterday, but since this is a correctional home, we assign chores to each of you. You'll do your assigned chores for the full week and then next week you'll switch. It keeps the boys from getting bored." He turned to make sure Castiel was following as he walked towards the shed, the Impala still parked in her spot from last time.

Dean hadn't thought about it at first, but flashes of Castiel in the seat of the Impala, head thrown back like last night, moaning out his name, suddenly intruded his thoughts. Dean groaned lowly, trying to suppress the louder moan he wanted to release. Walking over here was a bad idea.

“Okay, Cas." Dean tried to clear his thoughts, but looking into the deep blue of Castiel's eyes was not helping. “Normally we assign the boys their jobs, but I'm making an exception for you. You can choose any job you want." Dean gave the teen his signature smirk and a wink.

Castiel didn't know where all this confidence came from. Maybe it was knowing he was accepted that was getting to his head. Whatever it was, it made him say the next words.

“I want to give you a blowjob." He knew he would have to do real chores to stay at the house, but for now, they were alone and if Dean was anywhere near as horny as Cas was, this could be an interesting outdoor activity.

Dean blanched for a moment. If Dean wasn't hard before he was now, all sensible thoughts left his mind. The man swallowed hard and moved closer to Castiel. His eyes were dark and lust filled.

“That is a very serious commitment, Cas," Dean whispered gruffly. “Are you sure you're up for it?"

Cas took a slow breath in as Dean stepped closer. He thought for no longer than a moment before whispering, “I want to make you feel good. It makes me feel good." He raised a hand to Dean's collar, gripping it tight between two fingers. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch, but he figured this way he could test the waters. “Please," he whined. “Let me make you feel good."

“Cas," Dean moaned, hearing the words leave the teen's mouth. He grabbed Cas’ hands and pinned them to his chest. He really shouldn't be doing this, outside where anyone could walk over and find them. But the thrill of the risk was too irresistible. He wanted to tell Cas to go and leave this while they still could, but Dean felt Castiel shift his hip, brushing his erection against his own. "Fuck!" he growled. "This isn't right."

"Neither was humping my leg last night, but we did that anyway," Castiel said with a smirk. "C'mon, Dean," he whined. "Please?" Castiel pouted, lower lip pushed out so minutely, it almost didn't exist; eyes wide with down-turned brows. His hands roamed, gently caressing the muscles under Dean's shirt. He ran a finger over the man's nipple beneath the cloth, making it stand to attention. “Don't you think my lips would look great around your cock?" Cas murmured in Dean's ear, standing on his toes so he could reach.

Dean let out a small whimper, his control snapping in an instant from Castiel's words. He grabbed the boy's face, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss. “So wrong," Dean mumbled against Castiel's lips, but it didn't stop him from his attack on the boy. He took one of Castiel's hands and moved it down to his cock.

Castiel moaned hot and wet into Dean's mouth, tongue swiping every tooth, gum and taste bud in his mouth. The older man had already guided Cas' hand to his clothed erection, and the younger boy was rubbing roughly like there was no tomorrow.

“Fuck, Cas," Dean gasped out breathlessly.

Cas curled his free arm around Dean's waist, pushing close to him and fucking his mouth with his own tongue. He tasted of omelet and skin, and Dean.

The probing of Castiel's tongue brought the question ‘had Cas even done anything like this before,’ to Dean's mind. He thrust his hips up into Castiel's hand, trying to create more friction. All Dean wanted to do was push Castiel down to his knees and have him take his cock deep in his mouth; to see those pretty pink lips wrapped around him like the teen had teased. But Dean couldn't—wouldn't do that yet. He'd wait, especially when they weren't in such an open space.

It was all Cas could do to keep his moans quiet as Dean continued to thrust up into his touch. It was the hottest thing he'd done in a while. The last time he'd been this intimate with a man was because he needed the money. And a biker in a bar was willing to give it to him, in exchange for a favour. Castiel shuddered and put that thought from his mind. This was about Dean now. Nothing else mattered.

“Oh, God!" Dean moaned, a little too loudly and promptly bit his lip. “Cas, please, do something," Dean whined when Castiel slowed his palming. He couldn't believe it, he never begged for sex and here he was pleading with Castiel to suck him off with seven other teenagers only a few hundred feet away.

Cas growled against Dean's neck, where he was placing hungry kisses. He chuckled against the man's jaw as he begged, and instead of answering, he moved his kisses south. The hand on Dean's crotch started fiddling with his fly and the hand around Dean's waist slid into his pants, cupping his ass. With every kiss over clothed skin, Cas sank deeper to the ground, until Dean's cock was free from its confines and Cas' knees were in the dirt. Dean's cock was both long and thick and Cas immediately started salivating, his own erection throbbing against the fastening of his new jeans. Cas glanced up to make sure Dean was keeping eye contact before cupping the man's balls and licking a long, hot stripe up the underside of his cock. Cas didn't break focus on those green eyes once. Once he reached the tip, he sucked it into his mouth and then let it out again with an obscene pop.

Dean practically howled, having to bite his lip to keep the cry muffled. Dean didn't know what was happening. Well he did, he was getting sucked off by the seventeen-year-old boy who was placed in his care, and it was fucking hot. Those piercing blue eyes didn't leave his for a second, and he was struggling to not throw his head back and lose the contact. He wanted Cas' eyes on him, and his own eyes on the boy as he came deep in his mouth. He wanted to watch Castiel suck him down, taking everything he gave.

When Castiel took him in his mouth, his tip hit the back of his throat, and Castiel tightened his mouth, creating a tight suction. Dean had to struggle to not grab the dark locks and fuck the boy's mouth senseless; to see those gorgeous blues sparkle with tears and not look away once.

“Shit!" he gasped out when Castiel scrapped his teeth lightly against the length. He finally dropped a hand to Castiel's head, needing something to grip for support, but he never pulled. His back was almost to the Impala, her door handle within reach, which Dean quickly took hold of, his grip almost bone breaking.

‘Great,’ Dean thought, now he would have another reason to avoid being around the Impala with Castiel—the boy on his knees in front of him, while his back was against his beloved car. Jesus, he was going to need a cold shower after every time he around Baby.

His mind didn't linger too long as Castiel encased Dean once more, swirling his tongue around the head of his cock. Dean couldn't help but buck his hips into Castiel's mouth when the boy looked at him so innocently and then licked the slit, licking up and smearing the pre-come.

“Jesus, Cas," Dean panted, feeling his control slowly slip each time Castiel did something new with his mouth and still refused to look away. It was the hottest blowjob he had ever given and he knew it was the hottest Dean had received. Cas' skillful tongue lapped at the sensitive skin beneath Dean's cockhead and continued staring up at the man buried in his mouth.

Castiel slipped his lips off of the man and kissed his hip before saying, “Fuck my mouth, Sir," in the most innocent tone he could muster. Cas' eyes widened in unabashed excitement when Dean's hips snapped forward again. Castiel then circled his lips around the tip again and waited for a reaction.

As soon as those words were out of Cas' mouth, Dean's control snapped. He let out a growl and released the door handle and moved it to Castiel's hair. Both hands tightened their grip, keeping Castiel's still.

“Oh, God," he cried out when Castiel swept his tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck, Cas." He bucked his hips hard, hitting the back of the boy's throat. Dean momentarily stopped, making sure Castiel was okay. The boy moaned approvingly and that was all the confirmation Dean needed before he relentlessly began fucking into Castiel's mouth.

Cas' lips were slick with spit and pre-come, sliding over Dean's head and shaft as the older man fucked his face. Cas moaned around Dean's cock, loving the feeling of warmth and being full. His hand drifted toward his own cock, cupping it through his jeans, pressing the heel of his hand down hard to relieve the pressure.

“Shit!" Dean cried out, struggling to keep as quiet as possible and not attract any unwanted attention. Dean bucked his hips over and over; bringing out muffed moans from Castiel, who was taking everything he was giving. His face was flushed, and cum and spit covered his lips; he was truly beautiful like that.

Castiel ran his teeth over Dean's shaft again, causing the other man to tighten his grip further and slam a little too hard into the kneeling boy's mouth. Castiel's eyes watered at the harsh act, but he relaxed his muscles, allowing Dean to slip down his throat.

Dean, who had been keeping eye contact with Castiel the whole time, broke the contact, throwing his head back and practically cried out from the feeling of sliding down Castiel's throat. “Shit, baby. Just like that. God, you're good,” he panted out. His voice sounded wrecked.

He looked down at Castiel, watching as the boy palm himself while his mouth got fucked. “That's it, Cas. Fuck, yes.” The sight of Castiel on his knees, his cock slipping in and out of his mouth, while palming his own erection out in the open yard where anyone could walk over was a sight Dean would not forget anytime soon.

Castiel preened at the breathy praises Dean was bestowing upon him. He quickly undid his own jeans to pull at his own cock; the pressure of it straining against the denim was all too much.

Dean gasped as he watched Castiel pull himself out and stroke himself in time with his thrust. “That's it, Cas, touch yourself."

Cas opened his eyes and stared back up at Dean's face, which made Cas gasp around the man's cock. He surprisingly didn't choke, just kept sucking like there was no tomorrow. Cas wrapped a hand around himself, obeying Dean's words and jerked along with the rhythm of Dean's thrusts.

Dean felt the familiar tightness in his stomach.

“Cas, I'm coming," was the only warning Dean gave the teen before he shot his load down his throat.

Cas took Dean's load like a champ, swallowing it down as soon as it spilled from the man. He moaned around Dean's cock, lapping up every bit of cum he was fed. His own hand stilled on his cock, giving all his attention to Dean, kissing and licking, and soothing the spent column of flesh.

“Jesus, Cas," Dean gasped, slumping against the Impala, spent. The boy looked up at him, still stroking his cock. “Come here," Dean commanded, holding out his hand for Castiel to take it.

Cas stood, holding Dean's hand loosely between both of his own. He inched close, nuzzling into the older man's neck and kissing the skin over his throat. He hummed happily, wrapping his arms around Dean's middle and rutting his still aching cock into Dean's thigh.

As Dean let Castiel pull him close, he tentatively slipped a hand between them, wrapping it around Castiel's leaking cock. He ran his thumb over the head, spreading the pre-come.

“You're good, Cas," Dean whispered as he slowly pumped Cas, keeping a loose grip on the boy's cock. “So attentive." The pace was slow and torturous; it was a risk considering they we out in the open, but the whines Castiel was letting out spurred Dean on.

“O-ohh..." Cas trembled against Dean's chest, paralyzed except for his hips. Dean's touch was too much and not enough all at once. He rutted into Dean's hand, clutching his waist and trying to anchor himself.

“Come on, Cas," Dean encouraged, tightening his grip for a stroke, but then loosening it altogether. Dean wrapped his free arm around Castiel's back, keeping him supported as he felt the little trembles convulse through the younger male's body.

“I've got you," he whispered, sliding his hand from the teen's cock and cupped his balls. He gave them a gentle squeeze and slowly travelled back. He trailed his fingers lightly down the length, grabbing hold of the head and pushed the thumb along the slit.

“Come for me like this, Cas. Nothing more than my light touches." Dean's voice was rough and commanding. He eyes lust-blown at the sight of the teen trembling in his arms and grasping at his chest for support. “Come for me, Cas."

And Castiel exploded. He came so hard; stars were present at the edge of his vision. His cum spilled all over Dean's hand and dripped into the dirt beneath them, miraculously missing their clothes.

Cas collapsed into Dean's arms, a dry sob escaping his lips as he buried his face into the older man's neck. He trembled against Dean, knees weak and arms holding tight to his shoulders. He didn't think he could let go if he tried.

Dean slumped against the Impala, with Castiel leaning heavily on him, as he tried to regain control of his legs. “Damn," Dean gasped, leaning his head back against the roof of the car, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. He lightly stroked his fingers through Castiel's sweaty hair. God, they were in so much trouble.

Dean's fingers through his hair were soothing for all of three seconds before guilt and doubt decided to kick in. Cas' breath quickened again, this time not from sexual pleasure.

“Dean," he gasped out, panic gripping his throat in a death hold. “Am I in... t-trouble?" He said the words between harsh inhales; he was freaking out. He'd been through so much, done so much, tried so hard to get here and lead some semblance of a normal life, and he decided to fuck it all up by getting involved with his caretaker of all people. He felt guilty and stricken, but he didn't want this thing between them to end.

Dean's hand froze in Castiel's hair and his eyes snapped open. Castiel's little freak out pulled Dean out of his post-orgasm haze. ‘Shit,’ he realized. They were outside and indecent—anyone could come out. Dean looked around, making sure no one was around before helping Castiel stand up and started straightening his clothes.

“No, Cas," Dean said, tucking himself back into his pants. “You're not in trouble, but we both will be if we don't hurry up."

“Dean?" Sam's voice called from the house.

“Shit," Dean cursed under his breath. “Stay here and fix yourself up, I'll go distract Sam." Dean fixed his shirt and walked around the Impala and back to the house. Castiel only barely registered Dean telling him to sort himself out before the man was gone.

Cas managed to tidy himself up then curl in on himself, telling himself to calm down. He crouched down and sat against the Impala, head between his knees, forcing his breath to slow. He hoped Dean would be back soon.

“What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, trying to act innocent and not like he had just gotten sucked off from their new board. His brother gave him a questioning look, but didn't comment on his out-of-breath state.

“I'm looking for Cas. Benny came to me asking why the new kid wasn't doing any work." Dean struggled to not correct his brother on the lack of work from Cas.

“Oh, right," Dean said, trying to clear his suddenly dried throat. “He's helping me with Baby," Dean answered. Sam just rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.

“Your infatuation towards that car is not natural," Sam commented, moving to go back to the house, but stopped when something stood out. “Wait. You said Castiel was helping you?" Sam stared down at Dean, who was more than a foot shorter while standing on a step lower.

“Wait. You said Castiel was helping you?" Sam stared down at Dean, who was more than a foot shorter standing on a step lower than Sam's.

“Yeah?" Dean said carefully, trying to keep his voice even. “So? He didn't want to work in the garden so I let him pick something else," he explained simply.

“You let him choose?" Sam questioned, giving his brother a scrutinizing look. “We never let them choose, Dean. You said it yourself; giving the boys a choice gives them too much freedom. That's why we switch up the tasks every week." Dean didn't have an answer for that and remained silent. Sam looked over at the Impala, but couldn't see Castiel on the other side, luckily.

“Dean!" Sam snarled, as if he caught on, but he looked more warning than angry.

“It's nothing!" Dean jumped in before his brother could accuse him of doing something he was guilty for, but didn't want to admit to.  "It's nothing, Sammy," Dean repeated. "The kid just reminds me of me, and I want to help him, like Sonny did for me."

Sam inhaled deeply, but his face softened slightly at his brother's confession. The confession wasn't a total lie, Dean just left out the part of 'helping' translated to wanting to slam Castiel against the hood of the Impala and… Fuck. The sudden thought of Castiel bent over his car was suddenly endearing. But, no, he wouldn't do it, at least not yet. He wanted to move slowly with Cas, didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't ready for. However, Castiel hadn't been complaining when he was getting his mouth fucked.

“Just be careful, Dean," Sam said softly. “We don't want it to look like you're showing favouritism." Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Sam.

“I know, Sammy. I'll be careful." Dean nodded his head in understanding and Sam did the same.

“Lunch will be in about a half hour," was all Sam said before disappearing back into the house. Jesus, Dean swore internally, did he really just spend the morning getting sucked off by Castiel? But that was probably the best blowjob he'd ever received, and by a kid too.

“Shit," Dean muttered out loud; he was going to Hell for sure.

Cas managed to get his breathing under control by the time Dean came back, now standing and leaning against the shed wall, which housed Dean's precious car. He was hankering for a joint, but even he wasn't stupid enough to light up on his second day at a correctional home. So he settled for contemplating what the hell was going on between himself and the caregiver. Dean was kind stereotypically, generously trying to please everyone equally. Well, maybe with a bit more attention toward Cas, but the principle was the same.

Cas' anxieties hindered him from being comfortable in the house yet, but the Winchester brothers and Kevin were so accommodating, Cas knew he'd be considered one of them in no time. He felt a little better about himself as Dean rounded the corner.

Cas let the man approach before asking his question. “So... What are we gonna do?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and then looked at Castiel. "I don't know," he replied honestly, still trying to get his head wrapped around what they had just done. He wanted Cas again; that much he was sure of, but he didn't know if the boy would be willing.

“We have to be more careful," Dean decided to settle with, looking at the boy directly in the eye. It was almost too much to see those piercing blues stare at him so trustingly. It brought back a flood of memories of Castiel on his knees just minutes ago and a struggling urge to not take Cas here and now.

“Lunch will be soon," Dean said quickly, setting up his escape. “Go do whatever you want until then." The young man then turned on his heels and left. He knew he was acting like a dick, but it was for the best, to protect Cas...At least that's what he told himself.

Castiel stood in the shed, dumbfounded, watching the man retreat back to the house. Why was he acting so cold? They'd only just had the hottest sexual encounter Cas had ever had, and Dean seemed to love it too. So, what made him snap so quickly? Cas kicked a rock toward the opening of the shed and followed it. He kept kicking it toward the house, taking as long as he could to get inside. With every kick, he listed a reason as to why Dean wouldn't want him. Too young. Kick. Too handsy. Kick. Not attractive enough. Kick. Cas was the most self-deprecating person he knew. If something turned out wrong or didn't go as planned, he blamed himself and his endless list of flaws. Shuffling back to the house, he added new ones to the list.

In the time between leaving Cas and lunch, Dean spent it in his room, much to Sam's annoyance. “Dean, for fuck's sakes, get your ass out here and supervise! I can't be stuck in here and watching everyone at the same time. When Kevin gets back then you can slack off, like you normally do." Sam mumbled the last part, but Dean still heard it through the wooden door. “Go away, Sam," Dean snapped and threw a pillow at the door.

He heard his brother groan and his footsteps fade away. Dean was miserable, pissed, disgusted. How could he have let that happen? He didn't regret what he and Cas had done. It had been perfect. He only regretted how he had let it happen. He was Cas' caregiver. If anyone found out it would mean big trouble for him, despite it being consensual.

‘Then be careful,’ a voice suggested in his head, causing Dean to groan loudly and bury his head deeper into the pillow. Why were all the best things in life forbidden?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry this chapter is a little late. Dragqueencas and I had a busy week, so it took us a bite to look it over one last time. Also we made a couple changes, so that took a bite of time too.
> 
> We also changed the name from "Safe With You" to "Vetito". And I want to give a huge shout of to my friend AndromedaeStarStorm69 over on FanFiction for helping me out with the new title. You are awesome!
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome. 
> 
> Warnings: rimming, oral and anal sex

The next two weeks were fraught with tension. Cas felt shitty about himself, but it didn’t stop him from flirting with Dean every chance he got.

Cas got his actual chore after lunch, helping Kevin with everything in the kitchen. He did simple tasks, such as cleaning dishes, peeling potatoes and putting pots of water on the stove. Cas loved it. He loved providing for others, even though Kevin did most of the work. Cas still felt important. The job also allowed opportunities to tease Dean—frequently. If he happened to be in the kitchen at the same time as Cas, the young boy would find as many ways as possible to show Dean what he was missing out on. Carrots, bananas, knives, anything that was long and could be construed as a dick, Cas played with it. He was cutting carrots for a soup, and Dean was watching him. So Cas held the carrot upright and gripped it with his fist, slowly and subtly moving his wrist up and down.

At lunch one day, Cas had a banana, which he ate as slowly and seductively as possible. It was all for Dean, to see the look on his face—the sheen over his eyes, his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, his knuckles white on the tablecloth. Cas loved it.

Cas was doing it on purpose, Dean told himself. There was no way someone would eat such foods that way and not know they were consciously blowing strategically shaped food.

Dean had taken to avoiding the kitchen, unable to watch Cas eat without wanting to fuck the boy on the counter, despite Kevin’s presence. He started to take over the yard work, much to Sam’s suspicions, but luckily, he wasn’t obvious enough to fall victim to his brother’s questioning.

It had been three weeks now since the infamous _blow job_ was performed and Dean was currently jacking off to the thought of how the banana looked sliding into Castiel’s mouth. The worst part was, Cas knew he was doing it; knew what Dean was feeling. Castiel had only smirked when he saw Dean’s knuckles turn white as Dean held a death grip on the tablecloth.

Dean was trying to do right by Cas and hold back, give the boy a chance. Not to defile and use him; he would never use Cas, but the type of relationship Dean wanted would not look like that to an outsider. And it was so wrong lusting after a boy put into his care. So wrong.

For Castiel, every night was a struggle now. The way Dean would gaze at him, as if he wanted to devour him, made Castiel tingle with anticipation. Every night, he volunteered to take the last shower. He took the longest, but no one noticed, or they didn’t care. He jacked off in the shower every night after cleaning the dishes from dinner and all of his fantasies involved Dean.

On the night before chores were rotated, dinner was eaten late and the boys all stayed up to watch _Die Hard_. Sam wanted them all to go to bed, but Dean had argued in their defense. It was a Saturday after all. So Sam succumbed, and they were all squished onto the couches, save a few who were sprawled on the floor.

Kevin had shown Cas how to make apple turnovers, and everyone was eating his first batch, complimenting him on his successful first try. Cas just smiled and blushed at everyone’s praise, but the one person whose approval he craved most was just staring at him and eating his dessert. Castiel gulped and tried to relax and watch the movie.

Dean was sitting on the opposite side of the room, and Cas swore it was intentional. He was sick of being pushed back and ignored. So after the movie, after he and Kevin cleaned the dishes and everyone else had gone to their respective rooms, Castiel sneaked up the stairs and slipped quietly into Dean's room.

* * *

 Dean was in Hell. It was official and he could do nothing about it. They had just finished watching Die Hard, which Sam had been against, but after much arguing finally agreed to.

Dean struggled throughout the whole movie to not look over at Cas. He had an opportunity to sit next to him, but refused, not trusting himself to be next to the boy; in a dark room, easily forgetting the others were nearby.

He was in his room now. As the boys all headed to their own room, Dean slipped under his blankets, slowly stroking himself to the thought of yet another fantasy involving Cas. This time, they were fucking in the kitchen, while the other boys were just feet away in the other room.

He groaned quietly, feeling the familiar pull in the pit of his stomach as he was about to come. The sound of his door handle turning stilled Dean's hand and slight panic took over. He hoped it wasn't one of the younger boys that sometimes came in because they missed their family and wanted comfort. He wouldn't be able to explain himself out of this situation.

In the dark, Dean was unusually still. It was almost like he was holding his breath. "Dean?" Cas called softly, careful not to be heard by anyone who might be in the hall.

Dean froze when he heard the soft voice. He swore his heart stopped for a second. "Cas?" he replied softly, he voice breaking at the end. He tucked himself back into his boxers, trying to not make the movements obvious. His only hope was that the darkness of the room hid it for him.

Cas shuffled awkwardly forward, stopping at the end of the bed. “C-can we uhh... Can we t-talk? Or... I don’t know?” he stammered out. God, his heart was pounding so hard, he thought he might break a rib.

Dean sat up, carefully watching Cas walk towards his bed. ‘Shit, this can’t be happening!’ he thought. He knew he should tell Castiel to leave, to go back to his own room. But being the selfish bastard that he is, he welcomed Cas in. “Come here,” he commanded, gesturing for Castiel to come closer. "What is it?"

Cas moved slowly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Although, the man had fucked his face; he was pretty sure there weren’t many boundaries. Cas tucked himself into a ball on the end of Dean’s bed, drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins.

“About the other day,” he whispered. “I uhh... I really liked it. And I know it’s p-probably wrong, b-but I want to d-do that again.” He glanced up at Dean through his lashes, head down and shaggy hair over his face. “I want to m-make you f-feel good.”

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing—was Castiel really asking for what has been his fantasy for the past few weeks?

The sight of Castiel curled on his bed was enough to send Dean into another frenzy. “You do realize the kind of commitment you’ll be making,” Dean whispered hoarsely, his throat suddenly feeling dry and his blood rushing south when Castiel looked up, his eyes shining in the dark.

Dean reached out and pulled Castiel closer to him. “I don’t take your request lightly,” Dean whispered, giving a small warning.

“And I didn’t ask lightly,” was Cas’ firm reply. He was suddenly extremely confident, his previous nerves forgotten. He let Dean pull him closer, and he clambered the rest of the way onto his lap himself. He surged forward, straddling Dean’s legs with the crack of his ass hovering right above Dean’s cock. His own stirred in anticipation. “I want you. And I want you to want me. I can be good. I can behave.” And Cas didn’t know where that came from, but he knew he meant it. He didn’t know exactly where this was going, but he was sure he wanted it.

Dean grabbed onto Castiel’s hips, flipping them over so Castiel was now under him. He rutted his newly hardened cock against Castiel’s. “We do this, Cas, there’s no going back,” Dean warned, his fingers tightening their grip, nails biting into the boy’s flesh, keeping him from moving his hips.

“No one can know,” he said, trailing his lips down Castiel’s jaw and neck, letting his teeth scrap against the skin. He stopped just at the boy’s collarbone. “Promise me,” he mumbled before finally latching on, sucking harshly on the skin.

Cas gasped as Dean flipped them and pushed his hips flush against his own. He whined at the feel of harsh stubble rubbing across his smooth cheek, clutching at the older man’s bare shoulders. He paid every ounce of his attention to Dean’s words, but he was still distracted by the man’s hands and mouth on him.“I promise,” he breathed, just as Dean’s hot mouth sucked on the delicate skin of his collarbone. He cried out, then clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sounds he knew he couldn’t keep in.

Dean smirked darkly at Castiel’s confirmation and bit down harder, lapping the skin soothingly with his tongue. Castiel started to cry out which turned into a struggling whimper. Dean moved his mouth down, leaving little bites along the boy’s skin.

Castiel’s shirt restricted Dean’s access to the boy’s chest. He yanked Castiel up, only to assist himself in getting the offensive garment off. With a little cooperation from Cas, the dark t-shirt landed on the ground, exposing Castiel.

The man growled out quietly. He pushed the boy back down, shifting himself so he was straddling the boy’s hips.

“So perfect,” he whispered to himself, letting his eye rake over the dark-haired teen and descended his lips to Castiel’s chest, causing the boy groan out.

He kissed along Castiel’s neck to his left shoulder. Two circular scars marked Castiel’s skin, just below his clavicle. The scars eerily resembled bullet wounds, but it couldn’t be, could it?

Castiel felt Dean’s hesitation and opened his eyes, seeing Dean study his marked skin. “It’s nothing,” Castiel found himself mumble. “Please, it’s nothing,”Castiel reassured when Dean bit his lip and looked at Castiel with reserve.

“Honestly, it’s nothing.” Castiel ran his hand up Dean’s chest, and snaked his hand behind Dean’s neck, pulling the man to him. “Please,” Castiel whispered, before placing his lips to Dean’s. Dean stiffened for a moment. The marks had piqued Dean’s interest; it was never stated on Castiel’s record that he was shot.

Dean was still, but then Castiel started to lightly nibble on his lip and Dean slowly let himself give in to Castiel’s offer; the circular scars pushed to the back of his mind for later.

Dean growled when Castiel pulled at his lip. Dean quickly moved back down Castiel’s neck to his chest, peppering kisses as he went. Dean bit down gently on one of Castiel’s nipples, rolling the nub between his teeth and sucking on it.

Cas skin was tingling, buzzing from the attention laved on it by Dean. He knew Dean wasn’t going to let go what just happened, but he would take whatever time he was given to stall.

A solid weight pressed itself over Cas’ hips, and how could he complain when it was Dean’s ass that was grinding down on his cock? Cas preened at the praise that Dean bestowed upon him. The happy hum turned into a whine as Dean’s tongue, teeth and lips found their home around his nipple. Cas’ fingers held a death grip in Dean’s hair, and he refused to let up.

Dean growled when Castiel’s hand made purchase with his hair. It was almost painful, but he loved the fact that it was his ministrations causing Castiel to act like this. He released Castiel’s nipple, now a bright red and moved to the other one, repeating the action. He could feel Castiel harden against him and attempt to buck to create some friction, but Dean’s grip held firm, preventing the boy from further movements.

“You're mine tonight,” Dean whispered, moving his mouth back up Castiel’s neck and to his jaw. “I am taking my damn time with you.” The man nipped harshly at the skin by his chin, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

Cas let out a moan, his hips wiggling in earnest, trying to rub himself up into Dean, but to no avail.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, Dean. Need it. Need you.” His voice was whiny and broken, his hands quivering and lips trembling. He was so hard, he thought he might die.

Dean only chuckled, not dignifying Castiel’s plea with an answer but moving his hands to the waistband of his pajama pants. “Lift,” Dean ordered and tugged the bottoms down when Castiel obliged.

He tossed them carelessly to the floor, not bothering to look anywhere but at the gorgeous boy spread out below him. Dean let his eyes travel all over Castiel’s naked form. His cock was hard and erect against his stomach, leaking beads of pre-come onto his stomach.

“So beautiful,” Dean whispered to himself, his eyes focused on the throbbing member and the temptation to take it into his mouth and make Castiel wither beneath him.

The worshipful gaze Dean stared at him with caused a blush to creep over Cas face. He'd never been looked at like that. He was addicted already. Dean moved back and dropped his head, now aligned with Castiel's cock. He swept his tongue against the boy's balls and up along the underside of his cock and back down; still keeping his hands on Castiel's hips.

Cas gasped at the feel of a hot tongue licking stripes up his cock, hands now twisting into the sheets. “Dean!” he cried out softly. “Oh, God!”

Dean licked his way back up, stopping just above the leaky head. He lapped up the drops of pre-come, looking at Castiel with his head thrown back and fisting the sheets below him. Dean smirked defiantly and swallowed Castiel in one go, without any warning for the boy.

“O-ooh!” Cas cried out as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Dean’s throat. He subconsciously bucked his hips forward, but they were held down by Dean’s forearm across his waist.

Dean smirked around Castiel, as the boy struggled against his hold. He slowly licked back up, leaving only the tip in. He pressed his tongue into the slit and sank back down on the member. He hummed approvingly, sending vibrations through Castiel, causing the boy to raise himself off the bed in response.

He was half sitting when he curled his fingers back into Dean’s hair, gasping and whining and shaking. “Dean, Dean please. Please!” He didn’t even know what he was asking for, but he knew whatever it was, he wanted it.

Dean released Castiel with an audible pop. He smirked up at the pleading boy. “Patience,” was all he said, before moving a hand from Castiel’s hip and gently stroke it through the dark locks.

He moved his hands behind Castiel, cupping the boy’s ass, softly caressing his cheeks and lifted him off the bed. Dean gave Castiel a cocky smirk and lowered his head. He licked over the ring of muscle, feeling Castiel tense up for a moment. Dean carried on, pressing his tongue forcefully against Castiel’s hole, slowly working into it.

Cas didn’t think he could ever get enough of Dean’s tongue. He spread his legs wide so Dean could access his hole better, moaning and whimpering and trembling on the bed. He sighed a mantra of, “Dean, Dean, Dean,” over and over. He reached out for Dean’s hand, needing something to keep him grounded. Dean let him take it, curling his fingers between Cas’ and letting the boy grasp his knuckles.

The feeling of their hands connecting sent an overwhelming surge of joy through Dean; it was such an intimate act.

The little noises Castiel was making, trying to hold back, spurred Dean on more. Dean pressed his tongue against Castiel’s hole, pushing it in to spread him open.

Cas curved and arched, sighing and moaning at the feel of hot, wet, good as he fucked himself onto Dean’s tongue. It was all too much and not enough for the boy and he wanted more.

“Dean,” he pleaded. “Please, God, more! I need it. I need you. Please.” He pushed his voice into the air, and it cracked around his ears. God, he sounded greedy.

Dean pulled back, licking around Castiel’s hole once before crawling up. “Quiet, Cas, or this stops.” Dean loved the noises he was pulling from the boy’s mouth, but if one of the other boys or Sam were to awake, it would be over before it even started.

Castiel huffed his impatience at the loss of Dean’s tongue, but nodded fervently at his words. He understood. He should’ve been quieter in the first place.

He captured Castiel’s lips in a fierce kiss, nipping lightly on his bottom lip. Cas hummed gently into the kiss, trying hard to keep his voice low. But when Dean pulled back, he whined again at the loss.

Dean reached over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer and retrieved the bottle of lube and a condom. The snap of the cap echoed in the quiet room, aside from both males’ harsh breathing. Dean slicked up his fingers, trailing one finger down Castiel's crack before slipping it into the worked hole.

He wasn’t sure what happened between then and when Dean slipped a finger inside of him, but he didn’t really care. Dean was fucking him with a finger, and Castiel was biting his knuckles to keep from making too much noise. His breath huffed out messily around his fist, and his legs were pulled back, knees in the air, taking Dean’s finger like a pro.

“Dean,” he tried to whisper; it came out more like a broken sigh. “Please, more. I can take it. I can be good.”

Dean slipped another finger in, but didn’t wait too long before pushing in a third, enjoying the sight of Castiel arching off the bed. He crooked his fingers, hitting Castiel’s prostate.

Cas was squirming and moaning at the too full, not full enough feeling, fucking back onto Dean’s fingers. He gasped and nearly cried out when a fingernail grazed his prostate, stifling the noise with his teeth biting into his wrist.

Dean was hard now, tenting his boxers, pre-come staining the fabric.

“Shit, Cas,” Dean groaned softly as Castiel pushed himself against the man’s fingers. He tightened his grip on Castiel’s hip, keeping him still. “Be good,” he commanded.

And when Dean gave him his order, how could Cas refuse? The boy stopped wriggling, lying as still as possible on his back, still biting his arm with his other hand cupping his own cock. He wanted to show Dean he could behave. Wanted him to see how good he could be.

As soon as Castiel stilled, attempting to obey Dean’s demand, he began to restlessly hit the boy’s prostate, testing the boy’s restraint.

“God, you’re an obedient thing,” Dean praised, releasing Castiel’s hip and slipping his hand into his own boxers. He pulled out his leaking member, stroking it in sync with the movement of his fingers. “Do you want this, Cas?” he taunted, seeing Castiel’s struggle to remain still and quiet. “To come on my fingers, splitting you open, where anyone could walk in?” Dean had to admit, the risk of getting caught this time was even greater, and the tempting urge to fuck into Cas, fully taking him for himself, was almost too much.

Cas nodded, not wanting to make a sound unless he was caught.

But Dean’s words sent shivers through him, making him buck unexpectedly, and Cas gasped. “I’m so sorry, Dean!” he hissed, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” Dean shushed, removing his hand from his member and stroked his fingers through the boy's sweaty hair. Cas nuzzled into the touch of Dean's hand through his hair, cooing as thick fingers still pumped into him. “It's all right, baby.” Dean pecked Castiel's lips and pulled back. Dean's hands were then gone and Castiel was empty. He moaned at the loss, scrabbling at Dean as he left the bed, wanting him back.

Dean got off the bed, discarding his boxers, leaving himself fully exposed. Castiel stilled when Dean removed his boxers, watching the fabric slide over his tanned skin. His hard cock bobbed free and stood to attention. Dean smirked, enjoying the sight of the boy's gaze linger on his erect member.

Dean got back on the bed, crawling over Castiel. The boy made a wanton sound as Dean settled back over him.

“Oh, God,” he muttered. “Please, Dean, hurry. Need you. Want you. I’m so empty.”

Dean moaned lowly, grabbing the lube and spreading an ample amount over his uncovered cock. He tossed the bottle carelessly to the floor, too far gone to realize his mistake.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Dean whispered, looking up Cas’ body as the man slowly crawled over him, aligning his cock with the boy’s hole. “But you need to learn patience.”

Cas blushed at the compliment, gasping at the feel of Dean’s cockhead brushing gently across his slick hole. He wriggled, trying to push his hips so that Dean would be closer.

He smirked as the idea of punishing Cas filled his head, but that would be for later. He kissed up his chest and neck, biting and sucking on the exposed skin; marking him as his. “Ready?” he asked when he let the tip brush against his hole, but not daring to push forward.

The feeling of the older man’s hot lips on his skin made Castiel shudder out a breath. His response to Dean’s question was an arched back and a whimpering moan which was cut short by Dean’s lips smothering his own. Dean took Castiel’s movements and whimpers a yes.

He kissed the boy once, roughly capturing his lips and nipping harshly at his lower lip. Dean pushed in slowly, struggling to not just shove himself in with one thrust as he spread the boy wider.

Castiel growled into the contact and hissed at the gentle nip at his lower lip. And then he was being split open on Dean’s cock, slowly inching its way in, causing Cas to shiver and moan, almost crying out. He loved the harsh burn it caused, not used to Dean’s size.

Once Dean was sheathed inside him, he remained still, waiting patiently for Cas to adjust to the intrusion.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Cas whispered against Dean’s cheek. “Dean. Oh, Dean!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean groaned, burying his face in Castiel’s shoulder, struggling to remain as still as possible. “So fucking tight.” When he felt the boy shift his hips he took it as the ‘okay.’

Slowly he pulled out about halfway, and then pushed back in, each thrust pulling more and more out. The pace was slow and torturous. Castiel’s hole was tight and hot against him, making it difficult to control himself.

Cas exhaled sharply at the end of a moan with each thrust, Dean’s cock filling him so well, he never wanted to be empty again. He clawed his nails into Dean’s sides, pulling him close at the same time as rocking his own hips, burying the man deeper inside him. The pace was still unbearably slow, though, so Cas took it upon himself to speed things up. He rocked his hips a little faster, whining at the sensations.

“Dean,” he pleaded. “Please, more. Please. I can take it. I’ll be good. I promise. Please.”

With those words, Dean’s control snapped, as he’d already been walking a fine line. Dean pulled himself back, leaving only the tip sheathed before pushing himself back in harshly. He repeated his movements, continuing the almost brutal pace, but Castiel was writhing and moaning—scratching and clutching Dean’s back roughly. He had no doubt that the boy would leave marks, but he would worry about that later.

Castiel had to shove half his fist in his mouth to keep quiet once Dean started fucking into him without restraint. He tried to move his hips, to bring himself, if possible, closer to Dean.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s right hip, keeping the boy from bucking too much. His grip was a lot tighter than before, but he couldn’t bring himself to notice, or care. He used his other hand to grab Castiel’s knee, pushing it towards his shoulder, creating a new angle.

“God, yes,” Dean cried out, dropping his head down, trying to muffle his cries as he slid deeper into Castiel, knowingly hitting his prostate. “Oh, fuck, Cas.”

Cas cried out against his fist, the sound muffled, but only slightly. He buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, tears stinging his face in frustration and pleasure. He needed to come. He needed it or he’d explode.

“Dean,” he strained out, trying to keep his voice low. “I need - please - c-can’t t-take... D-Dean!”

“Touch yourself,” Dean whispered harshly, coming out more as a pant than a whisper. Dean pulled back, to ease up. His looked at Cas’ flushed, tearstained cheeks. His eyes were shut tightly. The boy was still clawing at Dean’s back, blunt finger nails leaving their mark. He made no movement nor indication that he had heard Dean. The man crushed his mouth to Castiel’s mouth, nipping harshly at his lips once before moving his mouth back to the boy's ear. “I said: touch yourself,” he growled, bucking his hips up, causing his cock to hit Cas’ prostate almost brutally.

“I-I c-can’t,” Cas whined, but he moved his hand to his leaking cock anyway, pumping erratically. He cried out at the feeling of Dean’s cock hitting his prostate again and again.

“That’s it, Cas,” Dean encouraged when he saw Castiel’s hand grip his cock. The sight was overwhelming, seeing Castiel touch himself, his head thrown back, tears escaping his eyes and little whimpers slipping past his lips no matter how hard he tried to hold back. Dean gripped his hands around Castiel’s hip and knee, striking his prostate again until Cas was crying out in pleasure.

Dean’s breath on Castiel’s face and rough hands around him pushed him ever closer to the edge.

“D-Dean, I-I’m gonna, I'm g-gonna...” He finished his sentence by spilling his come all over his own stomach with a gasp of Dean’s name on his lips.

Dean couldn’t hold on any longer. Having already been dangerously close when Cas interrupted him, he gave two more thrust before his own orgasm washed over him. He gave a sharp cry, into Castiel’s neck, the boy’s name coming out like a prayer.

Castiel lay limp across Dean’s bed, letting the man continue to fuck into him until his own orgasm overcame him, and he was filling Castiel up with come. Cas groaned at the feeling of warm wetness filling his hole, cooing at the sound of Dean’s voice chanting his name. He wrapped his limbs around Dean, wanting him to stay inside him forever.

Dean, too weak to stay up any longer, collapsed onto Castiel. The way their slick skin felt against each other was a welcomed feeling.

“God, Cas,” Dean gasped out, still trying to regain control of his breathing. He ran his fingers through the teen’s sweaty hair, stroking his scalp soothingly. “Are you okay?” he asked, making a move to get off of Cas, not wanting to crush him, and feeling a little guilty for the brutal assault he put him through. He wasn’t sure Cas had been ready for that.

“I’m perfect,” the teen hummed happily, leaning into the touch of Dean’s fingers in his hair. Cas squirmed, slightly uncomfortable and slightly turned on by the full ass of come he was now the owner of. He let out a soft giggle. “Did I do well, Dean?” he asked. “Did I behave?”

“You were perfect,” Dean praised, placing a chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips. Dean shifted, feeling his come leak from Castiel’s hole and onto their thighs.

“Shit,” Dean said, looking to his nightstand to see the unopened condom lying next to the clock radio. “I forgot the condom,” Dean confessed when he saw Castiel’s confused face.

Cas giggled again, his post-sex haze making him heady and light. “I don’t mind,” he whispered seductively, mouthing a kiss to Dean’s jaw. “It’s hot. And I’m clean,” he mumbled as he pulled back.

“Still, Cas. That was reckless.” Sure, he was clean too, but they shouldn’t have even done anything like that to broach the subject. “Hey, it’s fine,” Cas soothed, running a hand up Dean’s chest and to his neck to cup his cheek.

It was a little comical that a seventeen-year-old had to reassure Dean, but the knowledge of what they did was slowly hitting him.

Dean just nodded, still feeling guilty, but said nothing more on the subject. He pulled out, causing a sigh from Cas, and then dropped heavily down next to Castiel. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, pulling the teen into his side.

Castiel moved up to the man and resting contentedly in his arms. He couldn’t help but think he was being used, though.

“Dean?” he ventured, unsure. “What is this to you?”

Dean sighed heavily, looking up at the dark ceiling, running a hand up and down Castiel’s arm.

“I don’t know,” the man replied honesty. “I mean, I enjoy this—hell I love it, but we can’t always do this.” Dean turned his head, seeing Castiel look up at him with hesitant eyes. “We can’t deny there is something between us, but it’s dangerous. It can’t happen like this.” Dean gestured around his bedroom.

Cas frowned, Dean’s hand on his arm doing little to soothe him.

“I want to keep doing this,” he answered quickly. “There’s something about you that I can’t get enough of.” Cas pressed his forehead to Dean’s shoulder, huffing impatiently, petulant about the whole situation. He just wanted to be Dean’s. “I’m eighteen in a few months,” he murmured, “if that changes anything.”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean sighed, running his free hand through his hair. “This has nothing to do with your age. I mean, technically it is illegal... I’m your guardian, but the fact that you’re seventeen has nothing to do with this.” Dean moved, propping himself up on his elbow. “I’m saying: we have to be careful around the others.”

Cas smirked. "You’re talking to a master of invisibility, Dean," he said in a condescending tone. "I’m a former street-rat, remember? I’m damn good at keeping things hidden. Especially things I like." At this, Cas smoothed a hand over Dean’s muscled chest with a sense of ownership he wasn’t sure he was allowed to have. All he knew was that this man wanted him.

Dean caught Castiel’s wandering hand and laced their fingers together. He didn’t like hearing Castiel talk so nonchalantly about his past, but he didn’t say anything. He just enjoyed the closeness of the teen wrapped around him.

They stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and the comfort of being in each other’s arms. Reluctantly, at half past four, Dean shook Castiel awake.

Castiel was confused to be shaken awake, and taking in the unfamiliar location and the presence of another person, but it soon came rushing back to him. He chuckled and rubbed his eyes.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, seeing the bleary look on Castiel’s face. “You need to go back to your room. Everyone will be up soon.” Dean didn’t want to send Castiel away, but it would be too conspicuous if Benny or Luke were to wake and see Cas missing. That would certainly alert them to tell either him or Sam and both options would lead to them being discovered, and so early in their... Whatever this was.

Dean's words registered to Castiel quickly. “Yes, I suppose I should return to the others,” he sighed, but didn’t move an inch. He stayed put for a few moments longer, arms tightening around Dean briefly before finally slipping out of bed. He leaned over to kiss Dean one more time.

Dean tangled his hand in Castiel’s hair, cupping the back of his head gently, relishing in their kiss. It was slow and they savoured it, not sure when they could do this again. Dean would love to kiss Cas like this all the time, but he knew it was too risky and they would have to be careful.

“Have a shower too,” Dean chuckled, watching Castiel slip back into his pajamas. As much as he loved the thoroughly fucked look on Cas, they both smelled of sex and would draw suspicions.

Castiel nodded and bid him a good night.

“Goodnight, Dean.” The boy smiled, and with that, Castiel shrugged into his discarded pajamas and slipped back out of Dean’s room.

“See you later, Cas,” Dean responded and collapsed back on his bed after the door closed. The sound of the door echoing around the room chilled Dean as the realization of what he had just done hit him.

“Fuck. Oh shit.” Dean sat back up and pushed a hand though his hair, yanking on strands. He felt sick. He just had sex with a seventeen-year-old—a boy placed under his care. This was all kinds of wrong. There was no way this could be right. But what Dean couldn’t shake was the feel of how incredible it had been, how much they had clicked.

He didn’t know what the hell this was, but he knew one thing: they couldn’t let anyone know. Sam could never know. The things he had said to Cas were wrong. He hadn’t been thinking clearly, he shouldn’t have promised him anything.

* * *

 

Castiel detoured to the bathroom before he went to bed, and contemplated everything that had happened between him and Dean since the day he arrived. He pretended the warm water cascading over him was Dean’s lips, and he was rock hard in no time. He beat off quickly, knowing he needed to get back to his room. Cas came in ropes that painted the tiled wall and shut the water off. He snuck back into his room, hoping to crawl back into bed unnoticed. Luke stirred. Cas froze; a set of dark eyes caught his and his breath stopped.

“Where are you coming back from, Novak?” was the harsh whisper.

“Wanted the first shower,” Cas lied before crawling into bed. “You guys use all the hot water.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay. It's been a busy week. Hopefully next week's chapter will be on time.
> 
> Thank you again to my lovely co-author Dragqueencas!
> 
> Warnings: Oral sex and frottage

Dean woke up again at seven, having not been able to fall asleep after Castiel left. He was busy flipping pancakes when Sam came downstairs.

“You're up early,” his brother commented, eyeing Dean suspiciously.

“Couldn't sleep,” Dean replied, keeping his attention to the pan, not trusting himself to be impassive.

“Mmm,” was the response Sam made as he walked over to the cupboards next to the sink. He retrieved enough plates for the boys and walked into the dining room.

Dean was on edge; he was nervous to face Cas for the first time since last night. He knew he couldn’t act differently towards the boy, but it was also Sam that worried him. His brother had a scary ability to accurately read people and pick up on subtle changes.

Dean was worried and yet slightly grateful—Cas hasn't shown up for breakfast yet. He didn’t know if he really wanted to face the boy right now. God, he should feel so guilty for what had happened, but he almost didn’t. Sam didn’t ask him to go look for him, probably just assumed Cas was adjusting to his new life, but Dean couldn't help the sickening feeling that Cas was resenting him. Had he taken it too far?

* * *

 

Cas slept through breakfast. Well, he laid in bed avoiding Dean while the others ate pancakes. He knew because the smell was wafting up the stairs. But Castiel wasn't hungry.

He only got up at 8:30 to complete his chores; which today involved washing up everyone's breakfast dishes. He looked over his shoulder for Dean, making sure he wouldn't be seen and cornered. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Dean; it was that if he did, he didn't think he'd be able to control himself, especially after the night before.

Dean was standing outside, watching the boys as they mowed the lawn or washed the windows. Normally they didn't really stay with the boys, trusting them enough to be on their own, but he had to get away from anything that reminded him of Cas. He didn’t trust himself and he needed to clear his head.

It was lunchtime when he finally saw Castiel since this morning. His hair was messy—obviously the teen hadn't done anything to it besides washing it—and Dean had to fight himself to not just reach out and run his fingers through it.

Castiel had his back to the man, scrubbing the counter clean; his job was also to clean the kitchen. As Dean stepped closer, Castiel didn't halt in his task so Dean figured he hadn't heard him come in.

“Want to help me with lunch?” he asked quietly.

Cas was muttering under his breath as he scrubbed at a stain that looked twenty-five years old. He'd taken to cleaning every surface of the kitchen possible—it distracted him easily from Dean. So Cas wasn’t expecting to hear the man's voice sounding from behind him. Cas jumped, gasping and dropping the scrubbing brush to the floor. Once he'd settled enough that he could speak without stuttering, Cas nodded.

“Yes, Dean. I would like that.” Cas started removing his rubber gloves, picking up the brush and depositing the cleaning items into their respective carrier on the bench. “What are we making?”

Dean smirked and walked over to Castiel, cornering the boy between himself and the counter. “What would you like?” he teased, knowing full well that he was intending to just make sandwiches again, but took delight in the boys eyes raking over him.

He knew they should really talk about what happened last night, but it didn’t really hurt to ignore it. Right? Maybe they could continue with the teasing, at least until Cas was of age.

He grabbed the boy's hips, looking over his shoulder and out the window to make sure no one was in clear view, but he wasn’t expecting Cas to push against him.

“Cas.” Dean’s tone was warning and hushed, as if he expected one of the other boys to walk in at any moment.

“Mmm, Dean,” Cas let out and pushed a little closer. Cas nuzzled his nose against Dean's jaw, his forearms pressed to Dean's muscled chest. “What about Sam and Kevin?”

Cas had to admit he was scared of being found out. It would mean no more closeness with Dean. But the teen couldn’t help leaning into his lover anyway, disregarding the open plan of the house and open windows.

Dean sighed heavily at Cas' words; the boy was right and that made the situation slightly more real. It was less than eight hours since he touched Castiel, and he was already disregarding his own rules. It was going to be a lot harder than he thought. He needed more self-control.

You’re right,” he whispered, but didn't attempt to move away, though he didn’t tighten his grip or do anything further. Finally he pulled away. “So, lunch?”

Cas frowned at the loss of the warmth surrounding him, but sighed in resignation as he realized it was best…for now.

“Lunch,” Cas murmured. “Kevin wanted me to try out grilling some chicken. Is that okay?”

He moved toward where the pans were kept, bustling around his kitchen. He was so happy and at home in the room. It had quickly become his favourite of the house, second only to Dean’s bedroom.

“Sounds good,” Dean said, leaning back on the counter, letting Castiel do all the work. It was fun to watch the teen move so comfortably in his home, like he was allowed to watch without it being suspicious. He was ‘supervising.’ It had been about three weeks since Castiel had arrived here and already his attitude towards the house had drastically changed, as well as their relationship.

“You look good bent over like this,” he teased, almost regretting the words as they left his mouth, but the sight of the teen's ass when he had bent over to retrieve a pan from below the sink was a tempting view. “Might have to get you like that soon.”

‘Shit! Shit! Shit! That was wrong! That was so fucking wrong.’ Dean mentally slapped himself and focused on keeping his features schooled.

Cas laughed and wiggled his hips, teasing Dean in return. “Might have to get rid of everyone first, sir,” he said coyly as he straightened up, batting his lashes and winking.

Dean shouldn’t have felt a surge of pleasure at the idea of Castiel calling him 'sir.' It just added to the already growing list of things he wanted to do with Cas that would no doubt put him in jail.

Castiel knew exactly the effect he was having on Dean, and he was very well aware what he was doing to the man, if the way he was standing was evidence at all. He went over to the fridge and pulled out the chicken breasts Kevin had thawed earlier. “Could you help me cut this please, Dean?” he asked, suddenly on task.

“I know what you are doing, Cas,” he grumbled when Cas turned and looked at him so innocently, but he walked over to Cas anyway. He grabbed his half of the chicken Castiel handed to him and moved to another counter but not before placing a harsh slap to the teen's backside.

‘Fuck, why was it so hard?’ Either it was too much fun messing with Castiel or they were both aware of the attraction that was almost impossible to avoid.

“You’re going to regret that,” Dean growled tauntingly, smirking when he saw the struggle Castiel was fighting.

Cas groaned and braced himself on the edge of the counter, taking a moment to quell the pleasure roaring through his veins from such a simple gesture. It was the promise in Dean’s words that really got Cas going.

Dean smirked and gave another slap before he walked over to the counter opposite to the teen. He pulled out a knife from the drawer and began his assigned task. Get away from the kid is what he was trying to really do.

Castiel chopped the chicken quickly, trying to ignore the sight of Dean, his muscular arms tensing as he wrestled with a particularly difficult piece of chicken. Cas averted his eyes, focusing on the pan he placed on the stove so he didn't burn the kitchen down.

* * *

 

Both Dean and Castiel were quiet throughout their task, both struggling to not take little glances at each other. They were alone, which Dean knew was dangerous, but rare. In the time to come he'd be forced to pair Castiel up with the other boys so he wouldn't draw suspicion.

“Dean?” Sam called from the front entrance, his voice cutting through the silence.

“In here, Sammy,” Dean called, but didn't look away from his chicken slices. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” Sam complained, walking into the kitchen. “Hey, Cas.” Sam caught sight of the teen and nodded towards him.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Sam complained, walking into the kitchen. “Hey, Cas.” Sam caught sight of the teen and nodded towards him. “Listen, Dean, I-” Sam paused, staring at Dean questioningly. “Are you making lunch? You never make lunch.”

Dean stiffened. Damn it, he was right. “Can it, bitch. I do so,” Dean argued, ignoring the fact that he sounded petulant.

“Jerk,” Sam rebuked, rolling his eyes. “Not unless it’s burgers or pizza; this is chicken.”

Dean was slowly getting pissed by his brother’s interrogation. “What did you want, Sam?” Dean hoped he could steer his brother away from his questioning and get him back on his original tangent.

Cas smiled back, genuine and wide, happy that the nickname had caught on so fast. He listened to the brothers bicker, giggling internally at their fond irritation.

Sam just rolled his eyes and looked to Cas. He just smiled at the teen and looked back to his brother. “Some of the boys wanted to come with me to town, and I was just letting you know you’d be put on supervision duty. Kevin’s here, but you know how he can’t handle more than one.” Sam chuckled at the memory of Kevin struggling with seven teenagers the day he and Dean made a run to the grocery store. “Do you think you can handle that?”

Dean sighed as if he was insulted, but kept his thoughts to himself. “Yeah, Sammy,” Dean said mockingly, putting the knife down and fully turning to his brother. “I can handle that.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said, turning around and returning to cutting the chicken. “Good luck.” Sam's final words weren’t directed at Dean.

Cas and Dean worked quietly from then until it was time to eat. Cas asked for some ingredients and Dean provided, but not much was said.

Lunch was quiet as well. Everyone had been working hard all morning, so the boys were tired. They usually shoveled their food down their gullets, but today they sat and picked at their food, pondering it before eating. It made Cas frown, but he was reassured on a number of occasions that his chicken was superb. Cas blushed and turned his face down every time, never forgetting to add in, “Dean helped,” quietly.

After lunch, when most of the boys had left with Sam and it was just Cas, Dean, Kevin and two other boys in the house, Cas washed up before heading up to his room to read. Luke and Benny had both left with Sam, so he had some time to himself to catch up on a few chapters.

* * *

 

Things were tense between the brothers and that seemed to have transitioned over to the boys, who had remained mostly quiet throughout lunch. Castiel was supposed to clean the dishes, but as soon as Sam and most of the boys had left, Dean dismissed Cas, offering to do the dishes himself.

Once the dishes were done, Dean wandered upstairs. Kevin had insisted that he could handle the boys on his own and told Dean just to relax. He contemplated knocking on Cas' door, but thought better of it.

Cas' book was boring. He couldn't get himself to focus on more than one or two sentences at a time which made it difficult to enjoy.

By the time he decided to have an afternoon nap, he was frustrated and lonely, and didn't want to move. For fifteen minutes, he tossed and turned, trying to get comfy. But no matter how exhausted from last night he was, he couldn't manage to pass out.

Sowhat if he just visited Dean? He knew it was probably a bad idea. The man had seemed slightly conflicted all morning, but he couldn't stop thinking about Dean. Their teasing before lunch didn't make it any easier. Of course he hadn’t seen the slight regret flash across Dean’s face once the words had left his mouth.

With a sigh of resignation, Cas slipped out of his own bed and headed down the hall to Dean's room. Steeling himself, he breathed in, knocked four times on the wood, and breathed out.

Dean was lying on his bed, just staring up at his ceiling, zoned out. The four rapid knocks on his door pulled him from his daze. He looked to his clock, but saw it had only been a little over an hour since lunch so it couldn't have been Sam already—besides, he wouldn't have knocked if it was him. There was really only one other person who could be knocking at his door, and he was hesitant to answer it.

‘You could always turn him away,’ he told himself, but he knew seeing Cas at his door would not result in just a simple ‘hi.’ Reluctantly, he pushed up off the bed and shuffled over to his door.

Cas bit his lip as he waited at the door. He nearly ran off when the door opened, and Dean barked out his harsh greeting. It put something in his stomach he wasn't quite happy with.

“What, Cas?” Dean asked, as he pulled open the door to see the teen standing out in the hall. “Oh,” he said, taken aback. “Um, nothing. I just wanted to...ugh, I don't know. I’ll just go.” Cas turned to leave, rubbing the back of his neck as he trudged down the hall again. This was stupid. It was broad daylight. What was he thinking?

Dean closed his eyes and sighed heavily when Cas replied. He didn’t mean to snap, he was just stressed from earlier. He ran a hand over his face, knowing his was going to regret this decision if it got out of hand, but he wanted to do it anyway.

“Cas, wait,” Dean called out, feeling a little guilty for being short with the boy. He knew they had to be careful, but talking was harmless... right?

Cas smiled in thanks at Dean's tone.

“Um, well,” he started. “I just wanted to thank you, I guess.” It was only half a lie. He was grateful, but that wasn’t the only reason he was here. “You’ve all been so nice to me, even the other boys. And I don’t know how to show my gratitude for taking me in.” The teen blushed, glancing down at his feet and rubbing his forearms. “I’ve never had much of a family, and I guess... I guess now I have.” He chuckled sadly. He wasn’t sure where the confession came from, but it was sincere.

Dean stood staring at Cas, stunned. He seemed to be finally opening up, and it sent warmth through him that it had been he whom Castiel confided in first.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, just staring at the teen in front of him, smiling proudly. It had only been three weeks since Cas had first stepped out of that cop car, and he already noticed a change in the boy.

“Hey,” Dean said, reaching an arm out and grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, halting the boy. “I’m glad, Cas. I'm glad we’re your family.” He didn't mean to sound too presumptuous and assume they had replaced his family; but since their first night together, he was almost certain that he'd find some way for Castiel to stay with them... even after his time here.

Cas surged forward into Dean's personal space, wrapping his arms around the man's middle and pressing his face to his chest. “Thank you, Dean,” he whispered, his voice muffled against the fabric.

Dean stumbled back into the door frame by the sudden weight. He wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders, cupping the back of his head with his right hand, tangling his fingers through the dark, thick hair. He placed a soft kiss to the top of Castiel's head and buried his face in the teen's hair.

“I’m here for you, Cas,” he whispered, hoping silently that they could stay like this longer and not have to worry about being caught. He would never admit it to Cas, but he was worried; in his life he was never lucky, never allowed to stay happy for long. He didn't want to fuck anything up.

Cas breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of Dean before pulling back. He disentangled himself from Dean and nodded, slightly embarrassed by his outpouring of emotions. “I’m going to, um, sweep the kitchen, or something,” he managed. He nodded again and turned away, taking in shaking breaths.

Dean wanted to call out to him, to ask him to come back, but the sound of Kevin and Garth entering the house stopped him. He just nodded his head, though Castiel had his back turned to him.

As soon as Castiel disappeared down the stairs, Dean slipped back into his room. He hadn’t noticed, not until his recent encounter with Cas, but the room felt different—emptier. In all the five years he’s been here, he’d never once shared his bed with anyone. Sure there were his infamous one-night stands, but he never brought them back here. The fact that he changed that with Castiel mocked him.

* * *

 

On his way to the kitchen, Castiel greeted Kevin and Garth, who each handed him a bag of groceries. Kevin asked him to start preparing a marinade for the steaks for dinner, and he’d help him in a minute. Mixing herbs, sauces and stock together, Castiel pondered his connection with Dean. The two had kept their... whatever it was under wraps well enough until now, but Cas couldn’t help the feeling it might not last. Sure, they were careful, but how careful was not careful enough? And Dean seemed almost…distant, unlike last night.

Dean stayed in his room for another couple of hours, doing absolutely nothing but staring blankly at his ceiling. It was about quarter to five when he made his appearance in the kitchen. Garth and Samandriel—Alfie as the kid had asked to be called on his first day—were in the living room playing a video game, and Kevin, well, he didn’t know where that guy got off to.

He walked down the short hall and into the kitchen, a little interested by the sight before him. Castiel had his back to him, cutting up what looked like potatoes.

“Hey, Cas,” he greeted, letting the boy know of his presence. He leaned casually against the door frame, arms folded across his chest.

Castiel turned around when he heard Dean's voice from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, greeting the man with a smile but continuing to cut, which was exactly how Castiel sliced the back of his hand open and bled all over a tray of various potatoes and the counter. His eyes widened, not so much in pain, but in shock. He’d honestly done worse to himself with a knife, but the surprise of this incident had him shocked still, hand pissing blood, opposite fingers still grasping the knife, knees trembling slightly.

“Dean,” he whispered hoarsely, his face paling. A string of slurred words and panic escaped his mouth.

Dean noticed a change almost instantly in Castiel's posture; the boy was shaking. "Cas?" Dean walked over to the teen when he called out for him, "Is everything all right?" He walked over to Cas and nearly blanched when he saw blood smeared over the vegetables and a steady stream of the crimson liquid running down Cas' hand and onto the counter. “Shit,” he cursed, reaching over and grabbing a cloth lying next to the sink. He wrapped it tightly around the bleeding hand, but not too tight to cause it to sting.

Cas hissed at the feeling of cloth over his wound, breaking his stillness by bringing his other hand up to clutch at Dean's shirt. “Dean,” he said, voice rushed, high and panicky. “I can’t... I used to—I need-” Cas’ voice was breaking as he descended into his panic attack. Between gasping breaths he tried to tell Dean he couldn't handle this, that he’s remembering how his old habit used to feel, and that he needed to get help.

Dean saw Castiel starting to panic. He was used to boys freaking out or thinking it was cool they were cut; Cas’ reaction was something entirely different. He held the cloth closed for Cas, since the teen refused to let go of his shirt.

“Shh, Cas, it's okay,” Dean soothed, running his free hand against the boy’s hair. He was trying his best to calm Castiel, but the boy didn't seem to be listening.

“This is going to need stitches.” Dean’s voice was calm and gentle. He moved his hand down Castiel's face, cupping his cheek and bringing his face up. “You’re going to be fine. Do you know where Kevin is?” Suddenly, Sam’s absence had now caused a problem.

Castiel shook his head, only registering the question because Dean was grounding him. At that moment, as if by fate, Kevin walked through the door.

“Hey, guys, sorry I wa—holy crap!” Kevin dropped the bag of groceries he was holding—he must have left it in the car and went to get it. Cas only clutched at Dean tighter.

“He cut himself,” Dean said calmly, though he was struggling to hold his anger in. It wasn't Kevin's fault, but Dean couldn't help but feel a little hostility towards him. “What the hell were you doing that you couldn’t supervise? We all agreed if we let them use anything like tools or knives, one of us needs to be there.” Dean’s voice shook, but his tone was even.

“Sorry,” Kevin mumbled and Dean felt a pang of guilt spread through him. He just nodded and looked to Castiel who was struggling to hold himself up on his shaky legs.

“I’m taking Cas to the hospital. Let Sammy know where we are, and you finish dinner.” Dean nodded towards the bloody potatoes and started leading Castiel out of the kitchen. The teen still kept his grip on his shirt, though due to the circumstances, Dean doubted Kevin would question their obvious closeness.

Dean led Cas out to the Impala, keeping gentle pressure on the boy's wound. He was placed carefully in the passenger seat and Dean buckled his belt for him. Before he knew it, they were racing along the highway, not paying much attention to the speed limit. Colours blurred Cas’ vision, and he barely had time to tell Dean he must've lost a lot of blood before he passed out.

Dean knew he should be driving more cautiously, but Castiel looked about one step from losing it. He kept a hand on Castiel’s knee, rubbing soothing circles. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but Castiel kept pulling his attention away. The boy was now pale white and the cloth was now quickly turning red.

“Stay with me. It’s okay. Everything is fine," he mumbled. He saw movement out of his eye and glanced in time to see Castiel slump over.

“Shit,” he cursed and turned onto the main road.

He pulled up to the hospital, carefully parking the Impala close to the E.R. He unbuckled Cas, carrying him carefully into the building.

He rushed over to the desk. As soon as the receptionist saw Dean and Castiel, a nurse came over, taking Castiel from his arms. “Follow me, sir. We’ll need his information.”

* * *

 

Cas came to in an unfamiliar room. The ceiling was a faded yellow and the birds sounded robotic. No, wait, that was the sound of machines beeping. It was then he realized he was in a hospital bed. He wasn't hooked up to anything except a blood pressure pump so he supposed it was other patients’ machines that were making the noise.

He tried to sit up, and a searing hot surge went through his left hand. He managed to hoist himself up with his right hand before peering at the white layer of bandages covering his left hand. He glanced around the room, shared with seven other patients with the curtains drawn between each bed.

His eyes took in the room, landing on a hunched over figure next to his bed, head bowed and hands in his hair.

“Dean,” Cas croaked out. How long was he unconscious?

Dean's head snapped up instantly when he heard a hoarse voice call his name. “Cas,” he whispered, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “How are you feeling?” He was relieved to finally see those blue eyes meet his.

The doctor had stitched up his hand, but since Castiel hadn’t come to yet, they laid him on a bed until they knew he was fine and wouldn't need further treatment.

He tried to speak again, but had to clear his throat before getting out, “I'm fine. Tired, maybe. And my hand hurts.” He placed the bandaged hand over Dean's on his arm, reassuring him with a small smile. Cas leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek, because he could, because no one was around to ask questions. He felt Dean's hand twitch on his arm, trying not to grip him too tight. Cas chuckled. “I’m not going to break, silly.”

Dean sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “No,” he agreed. “But you are in pain.” He held up Cas’ bandaged hand and placed a kiss to the gauze.

Having seen Cas in so much pain and panic, Dean momentarily forgot his silent promise to himself…to Cas.

“Sammy called,” Dean said after a few moments of silence. “He asked how you are doing.” He looked into the blue eyes and smiled softly. “I guess I should go get a nurse and inform them you're awake.”

“There are buttons here for a reason, Dean. Please don’t leave me alone,” Cas pleaded, blue orbs watering from his recent unconsciousness and the added stress of the afternoon’s incident. And Dean now being warm and caring and cautious. It was all too much. The first sob escaped unchecked, more of a hiccup than an expression of his emotions. He brought his bandaged hand up to swipe at a tear that had escaped the confines of his eyelid.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I'm crying,” Cas choked out. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Dean was midway out of his chair when Cas pleaded for him to stay, but what he wasn't expecting was for Castiel to start crying.

"Hey," he soothed, sitting back down. "It's fine, I'll stay. You're all right, Cas." Dean chuckled lightly, wiping a tear from the boy's cheek. "Let's let the nurse know you are awake so we can get out of here. How about that?" Dean smiled when Castiel nodded and he reached over and pressed the red button.

* * *

 

The ride back to the house was quiet, the only sounds being the roar of the engine, Dean humming along to a softly played song on the radio, and Castiel snoring gently while he napped, exhausted from the afternoon. Cas was shaken awake by Dean when they arrived back, and he tentatively got out of the car.

Before they reached the house, Cas brushed his good fingers over the back of Dean's hand, shooting him a smile and a nod in thanks. When they walked into the living room, this was an ordeal all of its own. The boys were curious, and the men were trying to keep their questions to a minimum. Cas endured a fair amount of questioning from everyone before he claimed he was tired and headed upstairs to bed.

“How’s he doing?” Sam asked, following his brother into the kitchen. Sam had been one of the quiet ones when Castiel walked in, giving the boy his wanted space. Also he figured Dean would be better to inform him than a seventeen-year-old boy drugged up on painkillers.

“He’s fine,” Dean replied, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He really could go for a beer, but they only drank when the boys had gone or they were sleeping, and it _was_ only seven at night. “He slept on the way here and was asleep for about three hours at the hospital.” Dean had called Sam, asking for Castiel’s information that the agency provided for them. He had informed Sam up until the doctors just finished stitching up Castiel's hand.

“Hmmm,” Sam replied, nodding his head and crossing his arms. He had already yelled at his brother, blaming him for not watching over Castiel while cooking, and defensively, Dean argued that Kevin had been left in charge since he was up in his room the whole time. Sam seemed to have calmed down and wasn't berating Dean anymore. “I guess it’s just important that he is okay.” Dean knew that was his apology. Both of them were horrible at saying the simple phrase ‘I'm sorry’ and had started apologizing in their own way.

* * *

 

Cas struggled getting back to sleep. The painkillers the nurse had given him were wearing off, and there was a dull throb in his hand. After a few hours of tossing and turning, the painkillers had finally worn off and his hand was causing him a lot of pain.

It was eleven, so all the boys had gone to bed now. He trudged down to the kitchen as quietly as possible and looked for the pills the nurse had sent them on their way with. When he couldn't find them, he cursed. They weren't anywhere; not in the drawers, or the pantry or any cupboards. Tears of frustration pricked his eyes, and he cursed again at being so emotional. He put it down to being tired and in pain. He stood for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, weighing how bad the pain was with whether or not he should find Dean and ask if he knew where they were. With a growl of frustration, he headed back up the stairs, this time turning toward Dean's room.

He knocked on the door twice, trying to be quiet but needing Dean to hear him. He had no hesitation; the pain was too much for him to do that.

* * *

 

Dean had just pulled an old t-shirt over his head, getting ready for bed, when two knocks rang through the room. He had a sneaking suspicion as to who it was and his stomach twisted in a knot. What did he want? Dean walked over to the door and slowly pulled it open, revealing a tired looking Cas.

“Are you all right?” was the first thing out of Dean’s mouth, as he pulled the door fully open. He had not seen the boy since they got home earlier that night and right now, he looked a little worse for wear. He studied Castiel's face and notice his eyes were shining, as if he had been crying.

“I can’t find my painkillers,” Castiel huffed in frustration. “I was wondering if you still had them.”

Castiel looked down at his feet, trying hard not to curl his arms around Dean and tell him to fuck him. He'd been thinking about it all day, hoping to fulfill his fantasy tonight, but had been cock-blocked by his own stupid hand.

It took a moment for Castiel’s words to register in Dean's brain, too lost in the depth of Castiel’s eyes. God he wanted to kiss him. He had been fighting the urge since Castiel woke up in the hospital. He had to be there for him, like a lover should.

“Umm, oh, yeah,” Dean replied dumbly, rubbing a hand over his face. “I still have your pills.” Dean remembered putting them in his pocket after they got them, but completely forgot to give them to the teen before he went to his room.

“You can come in.” He moved out of the way for Castiel to walk in and closed the door after the he took the offer. He told himself that it was so they didn't wake anyone up by talking in the hall, but Dean's subconscious knew better.

Castiel ducked into the room, still staring at the floor as if it would give him the answer to life.

“Dean, I—“ Cas started, but cut himself off. He didn’t even know what to say. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t know what for. ‘Everything,’ he told himself. And wasn’t that a kick to the gut.

Dean walked over to his discarded shirt from earlier, which was laying on the floor. He picked it up and fished the small, clear bottle of white pills from the front pocket.

“I’m assuming you’re looking to take one,” Dean said, holding out the bottle towards Castiel. The boy just stood, staring at the small bottle. Dean's brows furrowed and he stepped closer to the teen. “

Are you all right?” he repeated his question from earlier, which Castiel had yet to answer. The boy was silent, and it was worrying the man. He dropped his hand with the pills to his side and stepped closer to the boy, so they were only a couple of inches apart. He tentatively took Castiel's uninjured hand with his free hand and laced their fingers together. He tugging on Castiel's hand, bringing the teen closer, so they were chest to chest.

Cas let Dean pull him close, and he curled his other arm around the man’s middle, still holding onto his hand. He grabbed Dean's shirt with two fingers, the only ones that didn’t hurt when he moved them, and pressed his face into the man’s chest before he sighed in frustration. He held his breath, and then let it out, together with it a shaking sob. He shook his head against Dean’s chest. A few frustrated tears fell from Castiel’s eyes and onto Dean’s shirt. _I'm not okay._

He pushed the thought outward, hoping Dean could feel it. When he realized how stupid that was, he pulled back a little, and looked up into worried green eyes.

“I’m n-not okay,” he uttered. If he spoke any louder than a whisper, he would turn into a bawling mess. “I don’t even know wh-what's wrong - nngh.”

“Cas,” Dean whispered, sympathy laced in his voice. He wrapped his arm, still holding the bottle, around Castiel, pulling the boy back to him. “It’s okay; you can let it out,” Dean reassured. He didn’t want Castiel to feel like he had to keep his emotions hidden, that he wasn't allowed to express how he really felt.

He placed a soft kiss to the top of Castiel's head, whispering soothing words into his hair, while his thumb rubbed gentle circles over the hand he was still holding.

Steady tears began to fall down Castiel's face. He pulled his hand from Dean's and wrapped that around Dean as well, clutching to him as if his life depended on it. He cried for everything; his past, his present, his indiscernible future. He cried into Dean’s shirt and held tight, only standing because Dean was there.

Dean was struggling; he didn't know what to do about the crying teen. Sure, this hasn’t been the first time a new boy had cried, but it was always Sam who comforted them; Sam who could empathize with them. So Dean did what he thought what was best and led Castiel over to his bed.

He gently lowered the crying teen, who was shaking and probably would not be standing if it weren’t for Dean’s arms wrapped around him. He sat on the edge next to Cas. He tried to slide away from him to give Cas some space, but Cas just clung to his shirt, so Dean kept his one arm wrapped around his shoulder. He placed the bottle of pills on his side table, freeing his other hand, which he used to gently cup the side of Castiel's head, holding it to his chest.

Dean didn’t say anything, nor did he attempt to get Castiel to say anything. They just sat silently, Dean's arms wrapped around Cas, and Cas clung desperately to the man.

Once Castiel’s crying had subsided, he pulled back, wiping at his eyes. The movement sent a surge of pain through his hand and he cradled it against his chest.

“I'm sorry,” he said, glancing up at Dean. “You probably think I'm stupid.” He said it with a chuckle, but it didn’t make him feel any less small.

Dean just shrugged, moving his hand from the back of Castiel’s head to cup his cheek. “You had a rough day,” he responded quietly, “it’s understandable to be emotional and exhausted.” He gave Castiel an encouraging smile, but it was partially covered by the shadows given off by the low light of the table lamp. “I’m not going to think of you as stupid, Cas, just for crying.”

Cas saw the gleam of Dean’s teeth in the dim light, which also cast flattering shadows across the man's face. He couldn’t help but feel his dick stir in his jeans – he blamed his hormones and the fact that Dean was being so accommodating.

“You can always come to me, Cas,” Dean spoke, looking wistfully into the teen’s eyes. “This isn't just a onetime deal—I want to be there for you. I want to make sure you are alright.”

There was a shimmer in Castiel's eyes from the golden glow, luring him forward. For a moment, Dean forgot about everything around him but Cas. He only saw the boy sitting on his bed, staring intently at him, his eyes not moving from his face. Dean leaned forward, still cupping Castiel's cheek, and pressed his lips to the teen's, forgetting everything he promised himself that morning.

Cas melted, sealed himself to Dean by his lips. He pushed his right hand up to Dean's chest and could feel the thump, thump, thump of his heart. Cas’ lips were trembling. He wasn’t sure how, but this kiss was filled with more emotion than any they had shared before. Dean moved his hand from Castiel’s cheek to his chest. He covered Castiel’s hand with his, keeping the teen's hand in place. The kiss quickly grew heated; Dean felt his dick twitch in his pajama pants. He slowly pushed Castiel back, being careful not to bump his injured hand.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Dean groaned, pulling his lips away for a moment to breathe. “You’re hurt. You should be resting.” It was also too risky. They already agreed this couldn’t happen here again.

Cas moaned into the kiss.

“Mmm, we shouldn’t,” Castiel agreed, but swept his tongue over Dean's lips and gained access almost instantly.

Dean growled in the back of his throat, shifting himself so he was hovering over Castiel. Cas let himself be pushed back onto the bed, still clutching at Dean's t-shirt with his good hand. “We really shouldn’t.”

Dean could feel Castiel’s arousal, which only fueled his. He dropped his hips, grinding slowly against Castiel. They really shouldn’t be doing this again, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, pulling back from the kiss with a loud smack. “Dean, can I—want you. I need this.” His voice trembled, nervous about what he was about to ask of Dean, not sure that he would agree.

Dean pulled back, staring down at the boy. There was a little uncertainty in the boy's eyes as he looked up at him. But he was curious as to what Castiel wanted to try. He really should say no and send the teen back to his room. It was too risky; Sam was in the next room, the other boys not too far, but Dean didn't do any of that, he just nodded.

“You don’t have to fuck me…just touch me. Please.” Cas stared up at Dean pleadingly. “I need to feel you.”

Dean cupped Castiel’s cheek, ghosting his lips over the boy’s. “I want to, but are you sure you’re okay?” Despite Castiel reassurance, Dean really didn’t want to push Cas, even if it was just a hand job.

Cas stared up at Dean with pleading eyes. “Please, Dean.” He searched for something, an explanation.

Dean smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Castiel's lips. He pulled the teen up and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He carefully pulled it over Cas' head, being extra careful with his bandaged hand.

He ran a hand down Castiel's chest, tracing light patterns into the waistband of his pajama pants. He crawled back, slowly lowering himself to be at eye level with his hips. He placed light kisses on the protruding hipbones, while hooking his fingers in the waistband and beginning to pull them down, with a little help from Cas.

Once Castiel’s shirt was off, the boy thumped his back on the pillow. Dean’s gaze held him to the bed, struck by the dedication of his stare.

Dean yanked the cotton pants past Castiel’s hips and down his legs, carelessly tossing them behind him, forgotten in an instant. His eyes raked over the naked body before him. The soft glow of the room created a halo of light along his body, illuminating the pale skin and the noticeable marks from the night before.

“God, you're beautiful,” Dean murmured. His eyes traveling from his erect member and up to the shimmering pool of blue.

Dean didn't look away and Cas gazed back, a tentative smirk pulling at his lips. He rolled his hips, grinding up into Dean and moaning impatiently.

“Careful. We’ll get there," Dean whispered, placing both hands on the teen's hips, holding them down to the bed. He slowly kissed up Castiel's body, occasionally trailing his tongue along the boy's skin.

Suddenly flashes of last night filled his mind. He remembered why he did it; why he wanted Cas. The promise to himself was futile in that moment. Seeing Cas beneath him made him forget all his struggles. This felt right. Cas shivered at the feel of Dean's tongue swiping over his goose bumped flesh. He lifted his arms, draping them around the older man's neck.

Dean straddled Castiel's waist again, moving his hands onto the pillows, next to Castiel's head. He slowly ground down his clothed member against Castiel's exposed cock.

As Dean rolled his hips down, Cas could feel thick hot shaft against thick hot shaft. He moaned, and strained his neck to kiss Dean.

“Just like last time,” he whispered kissing down Castiel’s check. “No noise. We can’t alert Sam.” They were lucky last night Sam had stayed asleep. Dean’d rather not push his luck.

Cas whined and crashed their lips together, immediately moving his hand down to Dean's crotch. He was growing hard, leaking as the anticipation built up.

“Dean,” he huffed impatiently when Dean didn’t make a move past kissing his neck. “Please, touch me.”

He smirked against the warm flesh of Castiel neck. He knew the boy was frustrated. He was a teenage boy, controlled by his hormones.

Instead of responding, Dean moved down Cas’ body, kissing and licking a trail down Cas’ awaiting cock.

Dean's face now was level with the boy's flushed cock. The wet tip glistened under the low light and Dean's mouth salivated. Ever so slowly, Dean dragged his tongue from the base to the tip, lapping up the pre-come.

Dean's tongue striped Cas' cock and Cas shuddered out a breath. He tried so hard to keep quiet for Dean.

Dean began a lazy assault to Cas' cock, torturing the boy by slowly licking up and down the length, occasionally sucking the tip. He enjoyed the feel of Castiel shuddering under his touch and his struggle to stay quiet. He made a mental note to himself to get Cas alone so he could hear Castiel scream his name without any reserve.

Cas trapped a broken whine in his throat, replacing it with a succession of little huffs. He wanted more. He didn’t need this being treated delicately shit Dean was handing him, but on the other hand, Dean was so gentle a careful that Cas was forced to remember he never had this kind of care.

Without warning, Dean swallowed Castiel down, until the head hit the back of his throat. The man relaxed his throat and started bobbing.

He dragged his mouth up lazily, guiding his tongue along the underside, until only the tip was between his lips. Dean then would swallow Castiel again, quickly, tightening his lips at the base to create a suction. He placed his palms gently, but firmly on Castiel's thighs, keeping the boy from bucking.

Castiel was dead; this was Heaven. Cas couldn't help himself; he let out a low moan, trying not to push his hips up and fuck Dean's throat. Dean was in control, not Cas. He knew they had to take this slow or he would have a hard time controlling his cries.

"Dean," he gasped as the tip of his cock hit the back of the man's throat. His good hand gripped at Dean’s hair while his wrapped hand laid on the mattress, carefully pulling at the sheets.

Dean was encouraged by the boy's whimpers and gasps. He continued to slowly suck Cas off, enjoying the intense pleasure he knew he was bringing Cas.

He pulled back almost completely, swirling his tongue around the head, pressing his tongue to the slit. He continued for a few moments, listening to Cas’ sighs. He felt the boy relax and that was when he moved up, swallowing Castiel again, smiling inwardly when he felt Castiel’s hips jump.

Castiel was a panting, sighing mess in no time. He breathlessly whispered Dean's name out and gasped in heady breaths, dizzying himself. No matter how much air he sucked in, it wasn't enough.

Dean’s hands and mouth were searing hot, almost unbearably so. But Cas would burn for Dean gladly.

“You’re being so good,” Dean cooed teasingly, releasing Castiel's cock and placing a tentative kiss to the teen's lips. He ran a hand through his dark, sweaty hair. “Staying really quiet,” he mumbled.

Dean pulled back and stood up. He stripped, dropping his pants and shirt carelessly to the floor. He glanced down at Cas, watching the rise and fall of his flushed chest. The boy’s blue eyes bore into his when they met.

Dean crawled back onto the bed, hovering over the boy. Their erections rubbed together, creating some much need friction for Dean. "God, Cas," he whispered, burying his face into the teen's shoulder. His hand went to Cas’ hips, hovering near their cocks.

Castiel pushed Dean's hand way gently and Dean allowed it, only because it was Cas’ good hand. Castiel didn't curl his hand around the base; instead just lightly stroked his fingers up and down the length.

Dean hissed and closed his eyes. He let Cas tease him; have his fun. The boy’s bandaged hand was placed on Dean’s back, just lying there.

Dean's restraint was slowly slipping, but he was determined to withhold and let Cas enjoy himself a bit more. He already teased Cas, the boy deserved something in return.

He latched his mouth over a perky nipple, biting down lightly. He wanted to fuck Cas, like he was begging him to do, but having Castiel at his mercy was too tempting to rush through; he wanted to drag it out.

He soon switched nipples, paying as much attention to the other. The little gasps that escaped from Castiel's lips spurred Dean further. Castiel began to groan out Dean's name, struggling to remain quiet, but somehow succeeding.

The sharp suction of Dean's lips on Cas' skin sent pangs of lust to the teen’s cock, twitching against his stomach. His pre-come swiped through the wispy curls of hair below his navel, and Cas’ moans grew long and wanton. Dean thrust his hips up, causing their cocks to rub against each other. Cas let out a low whine.

“Dean,” the boy pleaded. “Dean, I need it.” The older man’s lips were sealed to the juncture of his jaw and he gulped at the closeness.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed against the reddened skin and pulled away. As much as he was enjoying teasing Cas, he was now uncomfortably hard and needed relief.

He moved against Cas again, pulling another sharp hiss from Castiel. His nails were digging in his back as he rocked against the older man. The movements were to slow for Castiel. He was frustrated, but as long as he was injured, Dean was not increasing his pace.

Dean moved his hand down to Cas’ hips, using the as leverage as he rutted against Castiel. Their cocks slotted together, creating a delicious friction each time they rubbed together.

Castiel wouldn’t last long, Dean could tell. The boy was already so wound up from his previous teasing. He was surprised the boy didn’t come at his moment. His nails scratched at Dean’s back, and breathy little moans tickled the man’s ear.

Cas gasped, eyes fluttering shut and then snapping open again. He was close, but the slow rock of Dean’s hips was not enough. The edge was there, but the slow pace was just keeping him teetering there. “Look at me,” Dean demanded when he saw Castiel shift his head slightly. Dean’s voice pulled Castiel’s gaze back to the older man's eyes. Cas whimpered at the gleam in Dean's green orbs.

“Dean, so close,” he murmured.

“I got you,” Dean said, placing a hand on the bed next to Cas' head and the other moving down, taking both of them in his hand. His hand slid up and down in a firm grip, flushed skin rubbing against each other.

“Let go, Cas,” Dean demanded. “So close.” He felt the drop in his stomach and the familiar tightness. Cas was trying to push his hips up, but Dean held him down firmly.

Castiel was already a shivering mess, huffing moan-filled breaths into the space between them. “D-Dean, closer,” Cas pleaded. “Need you here.”

“I got you, Cas.” Dean's thumb swept over Cas head, and the boy sighed. He was flushed and a light sheen of sweat began to form over his forehead. He was so wound up; Dean knew what he was doing and he was reveling in Cas’ ‘torture.’

Dean moved his hand fast, quickly jacking them off. Cas was pleading for more and Dean was too eager to care about the slow pace. The teen threw his head back and gasped silently in pleasure. “Shit, Dean.” Cas’ breath was shallow now and a few drops of sweat rolled down his temple.

Dean felt the familiar coil in the pit of his stomach. They were both sweating, the light casting a glow off each of them. The pace was slow, but intense, something Dean had never felt with any of his previous relationships.

Cas stretched his neck up, planting quick kisses to Dean’s jaw before gasping out almost silently, spurting stripes of white over Dean's hand and his own chest. The man’s name was the last thing he sighed as pleasure coursed through him.

Dean came almost immediately, spilling himself over his hand, and Cas.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice muffled in Castiel's shoulder, his vision clouding and his arms shaking, struggling to hold him up.

Cas pulled on Dean’s back, guiding the man down against his chest, which was easy since the man’s arms practically gave out as soon as Cas’ wrapped around him. The boy was pinned down by the weight of Dean’s body, heaving against him like he'd run a marathon. He stayed lying against the boy, panting harshly and trying in vain to regain control of his breath.

“Fuck,” he gasped again, this time breathlessly. There was always something so intense about a slow and careful pace. As much as he loved to hear the harsh cries from Cas, he also loved the heavy sighs and breathless moans he just heard leave the kid’s mouth.

Cas turned his head to kiss the side of Dean’s, moaning quietly with each press of his lips.

Dean stayed slumped against Cas for a bit longer, trying to regain some strength. He almost felt bad for crushing the younger male, but Castiel hadn’t voiced his objection yet. After a couple of minutes he stood and went into the adjoining bathroom, getting a cloth and running it under warm water. He used the cloth to clean Cas and himself before drooping it to the floor (he’d deal with it later) and snuggled back up against Cas.

He took the injured hand, kissing the exposed part of his wrist.

“How are you?” Dean asked, caressing his arm.

Cas chuckled at the feeling of hot breaths on his wrist; maybe he was ticklish, but so what?

“I’m so good, Dean,” he answered truthfully. “You were gentle. You didn’t hurt me, so calm down.” He smirked and pressed a lingering kiss to Dean’s cheek and wrapped his now free arms around the man’s neck.

Dean smirked and moved off of Castiel. He pulled the boy with him, letting him curl along his side. Dean wrapped an arm around his back, gently rubbing light circles against the sticky skin.

“You’re perfect, Cas,” Dean praised. Cas frowned at that particular phrase. “I disagree,” he mumbled, ducking his head under Dean’s chin to kiss his neck.

“You underestimate yourself,” Dean mumbled, disagreeing with Castiel's statement.

Cas' frown deepened against Dean’s Adam’s apple and he pushed back, leaning on an elbow over Dean. “I'm the poster-child of broken homes and drug-addiction, Dean,” he said matter-of-factly. “My past is laden with hurt and anger and destruction. I am far from perfect.” After a beat, he added, “You, however... you're like a different specimen altogether.” He leaned closer to Dean's face, good hand trailing soft patterns over the man's chest and collarbone. “You're so soulful.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s nose, “bright,” his left cheek, “like the sun,” his right cheek, “after rain,” his lips. He lingered there briefly then pulled back. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

Dean cradled Castiel's head, as the boy peppered kisses along his face. He was haunted by Cas’ words and wanted to argue everything he had just said. Instead, he passionately sealed their lips together, pouring his burning feelings for Castiel into the boy’s mouth. They were interrupted by a sharp but quiet knock on the door.

“Dean?” Sam's voice came from the other side. Dean stilled, panic filled him; his brother was within ear reach of them. Had he heard anything they had said? Although they had been whispering, if Sam had been on the other side the whole time, there was no doubt that he had heard.

Cas managed to stifle a hum of content as knuckles rapped on the door. The boy’s eyes flew wide, panic making him quiver. He clutched to Dean, hiding his face in the man's chest and squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to calm himself, breathing in and out slowly. This was it. They were caught. This could never happen again. Cas would most likely be kicked out and Dean would never be allowed to work with kids again. His breath quickened, but he tried to keep it quiet, obeying Dean to the letter.

Dean placed a finger to his lips, silently telling Cas to remain silent.

“What is it, Sammy?" Dean called out, trying to keep his voice calm as possible. He gently pushed Cas off his chest and sat up.

“I need to talk to you,” was Sam’s reply. Dean gritted his teeth to suppress a smart-ass remark.

“Ugh,” Dean groaned. “Not now, Sam; I'm tired.”

“Come on, Dean,” Sam complained. There was a soft thud on the door, which Dean suspected was Sam placing a hand against it. “You know I can’t talk to you with the boys around.”

Sam was right, most of the time both of them were busy with supervision, but right now Dean was not about to sympathize with his brother; not when he was going to get caught naked in bed with one of said boys.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Dean offered, trying to sound apologetic when really he just wanted to tell his brother to fuck off.

“Dean, please!”

He didn’t know how he was going to get Sam to leave them alone; his brother could be persuasive when he wanted to be. He felt Castiel’s bandaged hand brush against his ribs. Castiel was silent the entire time, still close to him, but he didn’t dare touch him. He could tell the boy was in a panic and was struggling to not make a movement to give away his presence.

“I’m tired,” he repeated, refusing to sound whiny. “I’ve been at the hospital all afternoon. I just want to sleep.”

Sam sighed heavily behind the door, and Dean grinned triumphantly. He had succeeded, but the grin didn't last long. “Fine, Dean. But we will talk tomorrow.” Dean nodded in agreement, though he knew Sam couldn’t see him.

“Good night, Dean,” Sam said and Dean couldn’t help but feel guilty by his brother’s disappointed tone, but this time it had been too close.

“Good night, Sammy,” Dean said and collapsed back on the bed when he heard Sam walk away and close the door to his room.

Cas let out a long, trembling breath and clenched his good fist, trying to will away the shakes. That was way too close. Cas was fairly sure the door had been left unlocked, too. Cas still didn’t dare make a sound, in case Sam changed his mind and decided 'tomorrow' wasn't soon enough. He curled into a ball on his side beside Dean, shaking like it was nobody’s business.

“That was too close,” Dean whispered, worried that Sam may be listening. “We have to be careful; we can't be doing this in the spur of the moment.” Dean was looking up at the ceiling so he didn’t see Castiel shaking, but he felt it. “Cas.” Dean propped himself up on his elbow. “It’s all right,” he tried to reassure. “We just need to be more careful.” He took the boy’s uninjured hand and laced their finger together, letting the boy know he was here with him and okay.

Cas smiled weakly up at Dean, bandaged hand curving itself gently over their interlaced fingers. “Yeah, okay,” he whispered back. He sighed gently, removing himself from Dean and the bed, collecting his clothes and the pills he had come here for in the first place. “I’ll let you talk to Sam tomorrow night,” he whispered across the room, shuffling into his pajamas.

Dean watched as Castiel redressed. He wanted to protest, to ask him to stay, but he knew it was better this way. They had come too close to being caught and it would be riskier if he asked Cas to stay longer.

Once dressed, Castiel went to Dean and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. “Good night, Dean.” “

Good night, Cas,” he responded, letting Cas kiss him quickly before he left the room.

Castiel left the room as quietly as possible, trying not to alert Sam to his presence. Once he was sure he was out of ear shot, he popped the cap of the bottle, took two pills and dry swallowed. He was far too used to taking pills to use water. The fact made him slightly sad with himself, but he decided not to dwell on it. He slipped back into his own room, where Benny and Luke were thankfully both snoring.

Castiel's bed was more comfortable after he'd taken painkillers and taken apart so thoroughly. He could still feel the feel Dean’s come on his chest, and he smirked his way into sleep. For once, his dreams weren't laden with the horrors of his past.

* * *

 

Dean’s sleep was restless that night. After having such a perfect time, the rest of the night was disappointing. He shouldn't put Castiel through these kinds of risks. He was the adult; Castiel’s guardian, he should not be taking advantage of their situation; as people would say if it was ever revealed.

Dean knew he shouldn't be doing it—God, did he know. But he couldn't bring himself to stop. He was too far invested in Castiel, and it scared him that they had such an intense connection, after only being a few weeks.

“Fuck,” he groaned, turning over and burying his head in his pillow. He was so screwed. Less than twenty-four hours and already he has had sex twice. If he wasn’t careful he’d fall farther down this already dangerous path.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. I've been busy with college prep, and still am. The next couple of chapters may be delayed as well.
> 
> Thank you to my really good friend AndromedaeStarStom69 for looking over this chapter for us!
> 
> Warning: mild drug (marijuana) use

Dean woke up too early for his liking. He ate breakfast alone, wanting to avoid Sam until it was inevitable. He spent most of the morning outside working on the Impala. Even though she was already in near perfect condition, Dean decided to tinker with the engine, knowing Sam normally avoided him if he was working on the car. Thankfully, avoiding Sam also meant avoiding Cas. He hadn’t seen the teen since earlier this morning before they were interrupted by Sam.

The thought of his brother almost exposing them made Dean cringe and tighten his hand on the knob he was fiddling with. He needed to get his emotions under control. He couldn’t react visibly around Sam or he would know something was up.

After spending so many years together both of them could read each other so openly. It were times like these when he hated their connection.

* * *

 

Cas slept in the next morning. No one had bothered to get him up, so he clumped downstairs just before lunch.

“Can I help?” Cas asked, puttering over to the stove and poking at a sausage with a fork.

“No!” was Kevin's reply. “You’re meant to be resting your hand. Now get out of my kitchen.” The reprimand was affectionate, and Cas chuckled as he crossed the hall into the living room.

A couple of the boys and Sam were reading there, but the piano was free. He sat down and played a couple notes with his good hand, slowly because he needed his other hand to match the sounds.

Sam noticed Castiel walk in, but ignored him—Sam was getting too pissed at Dean. He knew his brother was avoiding him—that he only went to work of his car so he wouldn't bother him. All he wanted to talk to him about was that the sheriff had approached him in town the other day and asked about how Castiel was adjusting and was wondering if they were interested in taking on another 'runaway' as she had put it.

“Cas?” Sam spoke, drawing the boy's attention away from the piano. Sam would admit he enjoyed listening to it. No one had played on that thing in years—Dean wouldn’t let them since it was their mother's. He wondered if Dean would allow Castiel to continue playing it. Then he remembered the day Cas had come to them. Cas had been sitting on the bench and suddenly he questioned if the boy had been playing it. It was an odd spot to sit just for a place to relax.

Cas jerked his hand away from the keys, placing his hand in his lap. He still wasn't sure if Sam was okay with him playing. “Sorry,” he muttered, looking down into his lap.

Sam tilted his head in confusion, studying Cas. “Don’t be,” he smiled encouragingly, hoping to ease the boy’s nerves. “It’s nice to hear that old thing again. Dean never lets anyone play it.” Sam chuckled, an irritated tone laced in his voice. He looked over to Cas again, the other boys too involved in the TV or their own books. “You play well.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, looking up with a smile. “Seriously, though? He never lets anyone play?” He thought back to his first day, when he'd played in front of Dean. He didn't seem mad. Was Dean harbouring a crush on the boy even back then? Cas couldn’t be sure.

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head once. “We had a young boy here afew years ago, used to play piano. He asked to play it and Dean flat out refused. Ended up putting a lock on it later that week. I only just got him to take it off last year.” Sam chuckled, a bit more humour in it this time. “You’re the first one to play that since-” Sam cut himself off when he realized what he was about to share.

“Oh,” was Castiel’s stupid reply. He looked down at the piano keys again, lifting his bandaged hand and caressing the white and black keys reverently. He’d never owned a piano, but they used to teach it when Cas went to school. So he took it up. And his mother, who also used to play as a child, taught him at the community centre where it was free, so they didn’t have to pay for lessons.

“Who taught you?” Sam was curious. Did he have those parents who sent him off somewhere, or the ones that took the time to be with him? Dean and he never had either of that. He was barely three and Dean never showed any interest in the instrument.

Cas cleared his throat. “My mother did, actually,” he said slowly. Before she uhh...left. And then passed.” He looked down at his hands splayed over the keys. His mother played beautifully. All Cas felt now was that he wasn't doing her justice.

Sam swallowed hard. He felt bad for making Castiel reveal that secret, but he understood—Dean and he had been there.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, though he knew it was cliché, but he did mean it. He offered Castiel a small smile.

“It’s okay.” He returned the smile. “It was many years ago, now. I’ve moved on.” He pressed a few of the keys down, playing the opening to his mother’s favourite song—Beethoven’s _Symphony No. 5_.

“Well, I’m sure you're making her proud.” Though under the circumstances that Cas was here, some would have argued with Sam’s assumption, but the man was certain that the teen’s actions were not a reflection of his upbringing, they were... survivalist.

Cas smiled in thanks at Sam, pink flushing his cheeks.

Kevin called for lunch and they all filed into the dining room. Dean wasn't there.

“Do you want to go tell Dean to get in here?” Sam asked Cas, just before the boy took his seat. “He’ll be out there all day if someone doesn't interrupt him.”

Sam walked to one of the head chairs and sat down as Kevin brought in a plate of sausages.

“Dean still pissed at you?” Kevin chuckled and set the plate down. “Sending poor Cas into the lion's den?” The other boys chuckled at the younger man's joke. They obviously understood the reference to Dean’s sulking.

“Uhh sure,” Cas muttered. He frowned at the boys’ reactions, unsure why they found it funny. He walked out warily, contemplating on his way to Dean.

* * *

Dean was crouched down, rag in hand, polishing the Impala’s side when he heard someone approach. He assumed it was Sam, trying to get him to finally talk to him. He didn’t turn around, pretending to be engrossed in his job at the moment.

“Dean?” the man heard Cas call as he ventured over to the Impala. “It’s time for lunch.”

“Did Sam send you out here?” Dean asked, refraining from rolling his eyes. He didn’t care what the answer was; either way, he was not going into that house while Sam was around. He was too pissed at his brother for almost catching him, even though he was technically at fault. He was also pissed at himself for letting his guard down and putting both Cas and himself at risk of exposure, but he wasn’t going to admit that to anyone.

“Yeah, he did,” Cas said warily. He edged closer to Dean, crouching slightly to catch his eyes. “Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean sighed, dropping his head and hand from the car. “I'm fine, Cas.” Dean stared at the ground. “Go back inside.” Cas started to turn away, but returned his eyes to Dean once more.

“No,” he said. “You’re mad.” He walked closer, standing over Dean in his crouched position. “Please, talk to me?” he asked in a softer voice, gently touching a hand to his hair.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Cas.” Dean lifted his head up and stared at the door, figuring it was better than to look at Castiel.

He was angry, and he knew sometimes he could lash out quite viciously, regardless if that person was involved or not. He had done it a few times here, always feeling guilty right after and he didn't want to do that to Cas. He didn’t want to put the boy in that position. Also he was still trying to come to terms with exactly what he wanted from Cas. He couldn’t keep leading the boy around, especially if he was going to have a panic attack every time he slept with him.

Cas frowned down at the man, upset that he didn't want to open up to him. The boy had told Dean things he'd never even tried to think about before, and he was just going to dismiss it? Of course, as soon as he thought it, he regretted it. Dean would talk when he was ready.

Castiel sighed. “Fine. I’ll make sure they save you a plate of food.” He said it moodily, and winced at how he sounded.

Dean clenched his eyes shut and let out a long and frustrated groan. Great, now he was feeling the guilt. He didn't understand why it was so easy for him to take out his anger on everyone but the person his irritation was directed for.

“Cas,” Dean called out, “Wait.” He didn’t look away from the car, not moving from his earlier position, but he hoped Castiel hadn’t gotten too far and would still hear him.

Cas stopped in the dirt, looking down at his feet. He didn’t want Dean to reprimand him. He wanted to talk. All he wanted was to bond. He didn’t think it would happen today, but against his better judgment, he turned back.

Dean heard Castiel stop, but didn’t walk back. He sighed and slowly stood up. He turned around, seeing that Castiel was only a few steps away from the shed. He walked over to the work bench, placing the rag down and then gripped the edge of the table with his hands.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said more quietly, but he knew Castiel was listening. He looked down at the wooden table and kept his focus on a chip between his hands.

“That’s not an apology,” Cas said, acid in his tone as he stepped into the shed and folded his arms. “You said you didn’t mean to, but that’s not ‘sorry’.”

Dean groaned, of course Cas would be the one boy that didn’t let him get by without actually saying the pointless word. Damn it, he was too much like Sam. He gritted his teeth, refraining from saying something to worsen the situation.

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his head back, staring up at the wooden beams. Reluctantly, Dean said the words. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding, right?” When he didn’t get a response, he said, “Dean Winchester, you are going to apologize and mean it, or so help me, I’ll leave you with your hand for a week.”

Dean groaned at the threat, but at this point and with his luck, it would be his hand for the rest of the week. Maybe that’s what he needed to right himself. It was wrong, right? To fuck a seventeen-year-old put in his care.

He turned around and finally faced Castiel for the first time since earlier that day. The teen’s hair was messy, like usual and Dean had to fight the urge to run his fingers through it. He had the first two buttons of his shirt undone, where Dean saw a hint of a mark he left the other night. He had to be more careful with that.

“Cas, come here.” Dean leaned back against the table and motioned for Castiel to come over to him.

Cas nearly didn’t comply, but the way Dean sprawled against the table made Cas want to wrap around him.

He walked to within a foot from where Dean was standing, knowing he was annoyingly too far away—he usually got up in Dean's face. Cas was wearing a scowl that could make stars fall from the sky, and he hoped he kind of scared Dean.

He muttered petulantly under his breath, cursing the way Dean had him wrapped around his little finger.

Dean reached out and grabbed the teen’s hand, pulling him closer. He knew he was treading dangerous territories with having Cas so close to him, but he missed the feel of the boy in his arms. He held the teen's hand firmly in his, lightly stroking his thumb over the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean said softly, staring into Castiel's eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He raised his other hand and threaded his fingers through the soft, dark hair.

Cas softened, melting against Dean and nuzzling into his touch. “Hmmm. You’re forgiven,” he hummed. “Do you want to come and get some lunch? Kevin made sausages and potatoes.”

“Mmmm,” Dean hummed and pulled Castiel so they were pressed together. “In a minute, Cas.” He wrapped his hand around the back of Castiel’s head, pushing him closer. He turned them around and pushed Castiel against the work bench, keeping him trapped between the wood and him.

Just a quick kiss. That couldn’t hurt, right? If they went a little slower he could deal with this.

Cas gasped at the sharp bite of wood in the small of his back as Dean pressed up against him. “Dean,” he sighed, sounding winded. “This is—ungh-risky.” Dean had pressed his mouth to the skin behind Cas' ear and Cas nearly collapsed. Despite his half-hearted protest, he grasped the front of Dean’s shirt, his good hand twitching as he curled his fists tight.

Dean just smirked and pressed himself closer to Cas. “We won’t get caught,” Dean reassured the boy before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He felt Castiel tug on his shirt, pulling Dean, if possible, closer to him.

Cas trembled, whimpering into Dean’s mouth and snaked his arms around his neck. Pulling free from the kiss with a smack, Cas nuzzled his nose against Dean’s stubble. He pressed kisses to his neck and jaw, licking and sucking, gentle enough not to leave marks.

His cock twitched with interest in his jeans, and he pushed his hips up and forward, rutting against Dean’s thigh.

Dean felt Castiel harden against him and moved his hand down to the boy’s hip, keeping him close, but holding him still. He wanted nothing more than to allow Cas this, but they couldn’t go too far. Even though Dean knew no one else would come looking for him since they all still thought he was in a mood, lunch would be over soon and the boys would be back to their chores.

“Cas,” Dean sighed against the boys lips. “You can’t do that.” Dean growled when Castiel wiggled against his hold, rubbing his hardened member against Dean’s. It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the boy.

Cas grunted in annoyance, shoving Dean back slightly. “Then why did you do that?” he huffed angrily. “You can’t have it both ways, Dean. You can’t just... do that and then... tell me no.” He growled angrily, a little mad at himself. He was mad and hard and frustrated. And Dean was perfect and aggravating and right there.

“Damn it,” Dean grumbled, dropping his head and pulled away. His teeth were clenched. “Cas, that’s not what I meant. I just meant we have to be careful. Last night was too close; I don't want what we have to end so quickly because of lust.” Dean pulled his hand from Cas' hip and up to his face. He wiped a stray tear and then cupped his face. “We can’t just fuck in daylight in the middle of the shed.”

Dean groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. Shit, he really was handling this maturely.

“I’m not rejecting you, Cas,” he said, a lot calmer. “I’m just trying to protect you, please understand that.”

“I don’t want to hide anymore, Dean,” Cas whined, a sob escaping his lips before he could catch it. “I’m sorry, I’m so stupid.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, pushing so hard he could see stars and the stitches in his hand pulled. He gasped in pain, but just clenched his fist harder. He was so mad at himself. So stupid, he thought.

“What do you mean?” Dean was worried. It had only been a week or so, and Castiel already seemed to be regretting his decision. “I mean, I know we can’t exactly be truthful to everyone, but there are ways around it. We’ll figure it out.” Dean didn’t like how desperate he sounded, like a pleading girlfriend trying to stop a breakup. Even though they'd only been together for what most would just call a ‘fling’, Dean truly did care for the boy. He didn’t see it as just sex, though, that’s what this seemed like at the moment. The man intended to change that soon. He wanted to get to know Cas and not just from what his file said.

“What?” Cas pulled his hands away, looking up into Dean's worried face. “Oh! No, Dean, I'm not—I’m just frustrated. I still want this.”

He ran his bandaged fingers down the side of Dean’s face, the fabric catching on Dean’s stubble. “Want you. I know we can’t be risk being seen.” He smiled shakily, lips still trembling from his outburst. He pressed them to the hollow in Dean's throat between his collarbones to still them.

As hard as it was for them to keep it from everyone, Cas would push through—for Dean. He felt something with him he couldn't name. It was addictive. And if he had to get his fix in secret, then so be it.

“It’s okay,” Dean reassured, kissing Castiel's lips gently. He pulled back and smirked teasingly at the boy. Just because they couldn’t be intimate at the moment didn't mean that they had to be completely absent from each other. “We’ll just blame them on teenage hormones.” Dean teased the boy with a wink.

Cas couldn’t help but chase the kiss as Dean pulled away. He blushed a light pink when he registered Dean’s words.

“Oh, I-I-” Cas sputtered, trying to figure out a coherent response. He knew he could be a little eager, but in his defense it was Dean’s fault—Dean and his stupid perfect face.

“Relax, Cas,” Dean laughed and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” His eyes glanced over Castiel’s face and smirked. He moved his fingers up, running them over the boy’s cheek. “Though, I do like that blush on you. Might have to see if I can make you turn that colour later.”

Castiel gasped and stared wide-eyed at the older man. If it was possible, he blushed darker and averted his eyes.

 _God_ , Dean knew exactly how to get him.

Dean chuckled again. “Fuck, you’re cute.” Dean cupped Castiel’s cheeks, pulling the boy back in for a deeper kiss. The boy was just too tempting.

Castiel’s hand found Dean’s shirt again, pulling Dean against him. Their chests pressed together and Dean involuntarily rubbed up against Castiel.

“Fuck,” he groaned when the boy responded, quite eagerly too for only just having sex last night.

“Dean,” Castiel whimpered and Dean growled, nipping at the teen’s lips.

Castiel was pressed up against the wooden table. Fuck teenage hormones, Dean knew he wasn’t any better and it was that thought that had the older male pulling back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling a little guilty that his control almost got away. However, they still were clothed so that had to be an accomplishment in some way.

Castiel was panting a little, averted his gaze, embarrassed at how he so easily humped into Dean. “It’s all right.” He was a little disappointed that Dean stopped them. The man was really trying to keep strong with his “be careful” rule.

“It’s not like I was exactly stopping you,” Cas mumbled lowly, but Dean still heard.

“Still, I already told you no and then I led you on again.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, a sure way to keep them from touching Castiel.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the boy’s hand. “How’s the hand?” he asked, changing topics.

“W-wha-oh, um-” Castiel glanced down at his hand. He had taken a pill earlier, so all he felt was a numb throbbing. “It’s okay. Right now.”

Dean nodded, not sure what else to say on the subject. There was a lot he wanted to say to Cas lately—wanted to ask him, but it was never the right time. He wanted to know more about the boy, about Castiel, and not just what his file said. He wanted to know Castiel’s likes; what his life was like before all of this. Most importantly though, he wanted to know exactly how Castiel ended up here. How the boy ended up on the path that led him to stealing.

Castiel shifted awkwardly—Dean was still staring. He knew what Dean was thinking. The man had brought up the prospect of his past more than once in the past couple of weeks, but the boy just brushed him off either by making a joke or changing the subject.

Cas swallowed and cleared his throat. Dean snapped out of his thoughts and gave a fake cough. He looked back to the Impala. A few tools littered the floor.

The man moved back to his car and began to clean up, well aware of Castiel’s eyes on him.

Castiel let out a soft sigh. _Damn, why can’t he just say it_? It wasn’t like his past was the darkest Dean’s ever heard. The man’s got to have heard worse. Dean’s face had been so genuine and open.

“C’mon,” the boy broke the silence. “We should head back. They’ll be wondering what’s taking so long.” He beckoned with his hand, but waited for Dean, as he placed a couple of tools back onto the work bench.

“I don’t know how much food will be left, but we've already eaten so that's okay.” He smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

Dean growled, trying to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t help the smile spread across his face, easily forgetting the past ten minutes.

“You give yourself too much credit.” Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes, but followed the smug boy. Even though he’d still rather not face his brother just yet, he'd do almost anything for the boy.

Cas counted it as a win that the man walked back with him to the house. He was glad to have made the man forget his anger, even for a moment.

Once back inside, Cas sat between Alfie and Benny, and Dean sat at the opposite side of the table from Sam. There was plenty left over for them.

* * *

“Glad you finally decided to join us,” Sam greeted when his brother took his seat. Dean just rolled his eyes and took a sausage from the plate Kevin handed to him.

“Nice to see you listened to someone.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Kevin, but didn't say anything.

“Dean wasn’t too hard on you, was he?” Kevin addressed the boy, and Dean had to bite his cheek to keep a stoic face.

“Hmm? Oh, he was a little moody, but he softened pretty quickly,” he said with a small smile. He looked down at his plate, focused on the food he was piling up, trying to ignore Sam’s quizzical gaze. It was almost like the youngest Winchester suspected something.

“That’ll be a first,” Sam grumbled, feeling slightly pissed that Dean was willing to talk to Castiel but not him. Dean struggled not to narrow his eye at his brother.

“Cas must be one hell of a persuader,” Kevin joked and a few boys chuckled. You have no idea, Dean thought, but didn't dare speak.

Castiel, the smug bastard, had been teasing him all through lunch and Dean had to take it. It would look too suspicious, so Dean sat back and let the teen have his fun, but Cas and he both knew he was not getting away with it.

Castiel helped Kevin clean the kitchen after lunch, while everyone else was outside playing a game of touch football.

Once Castiel finished with his task, he grabbed a book and sat out in the sun to watch them. He occasionally stood to pass the ball back when it came his way, but other than that, he just enjoyed the warmth on his skin.

* * *

Everyone was outside while Dean stayed in. Sam had finally cornered him when all the boys went outside to play some game. Since it was Sunday, it was the day the boys got off. After their talk, Dean realized his anger was aimed towards the fact his brother had interrupted him last night.

"Dean?" Sam stopped Dean from heading upstairs. His brother had been ignoring him all morning and he was determined to finally talk to him.

“What, Sammy?” Dean sighed, and turned to face Sam, who was standing in the middle of the front hall. “We need to talk, Dean. You’ve been avoiding me all morning and it’s pissing me off. I don’t know what I did, but I want to know.”

Dean cursed inwardly, he really hated when Sam tried to “communicate” with him. Why couldn't he just let him be pissed? “There’s nothing to talk about Sam—you’re the one who came to me.” “Dean, you're terrible with your words. I normally don’t say anything because I’m your brother, and I know that’s how you are. But Dean you can't be acting like this around the boys. We are supposed to be setting examples for them, not acting like them.”

Sam's words were like a blow to the stomach, but he was right. Dean realized Sam hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He was the one who was at fault. He was the one who was sneaking Cas into his room; Sam was within his rights to go to his room. “You’re right,” Dean sighed, shocking Sam with his compliance. “I’m sorry.”

“You agree?” Sam asked in bewilderment. “You’re not supposed to agree, Dean, you're supposed to argue with me.” Sam crossed his arms and stared at his brother. “What has gotten into you? You’re all over the place. It’s like you're PM-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, bitch,” Dean warned, pointing a finger at Sam.

A smile spread across Sam's face and it was Dean's turn to be confused. “Jerk.” Sam chuckled and Dean realized what Sam had done.

“That was not cool,” Dean complained, trying to act pissed, but failing. Sam just shrugged, “It got you talking.” He turned on his heels and walked down the hall to the kitchen and then out the back door. Dean just shook his head and headed up to his room.

* * *

After the fifth or sixth time the ball hit Cas’ leg, he sighed and closed his book. He stood to pick it up when Adam ran over.“You wanna join in?” he asked, taking the ball from Castiel.

“I don’t know how,” Cas admitted, looking back to his book laying on the bench.

“That’s okay, we can teach you. Come on.” He was tugged into the game by his good wrist and the other boys cheered. A flush coloured his cheeks and a swell of pride filled his chest. It was nice to be included.

After about half an hour, Cas was starting to get the hang of the game. He was even actually enjoying it. Then he caught the ball and it whacked against his hand. It was painful, and he cradled it against his chest. Benny ran over. “Sorry, brother,” he said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“It’s all right, Benny, really.” Cas pulled back to look at his hand, and saw a couple of stitches must have pulled out. The bandage was stained red. He sighed in annoyance and told the boys he'd have to go fix his hand.

He grabbed his book from the bench and went back inside to find Dean. He found Sam instead. He was in the living room, reading.

“Sam?” he ventured. “Could you help me for a second, please?”

Sam looked up from his book when Castiel called his name. He had gone out to check on the boys, but when he saw they were just playing he figured he would go read, since he rarely got the chance. Apparently something had happened in that time and now Castiel was cradling his hand, which was currently stained red. “What happened?” He placed his book on the coffee table and got up to go over to Cas. He gently grabbed the boy’s hand to examine the damage.

“I caught a hard ball. I think it tore some stitches.” He hissed at Sam’s touch. He hoped it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t want to cause more trouble than Sam needed, what with Dean being as moody as he was.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Sam observed, gently moving the bloodied bandage to see the open wound. “We’ll just apply some pressure to stop the bleeding and get you some clean gauze.” Sam led Castiel to the kitchen before heading upstairs to get a cloth and gauze for the cut.

Cas sat at the kitchen table, unwrapping the bandage from his hand. He wanted to go and play ball with the others again, but knew that it would be wiser to read his book—this time in the safety of his room.

He picked the broken stitches from his hand and placed them with the dirty gauze, planning to dispose of it all together.

“What happened?” Dean’s voice broke through the silence of the kitchen. Sam had informed him that Cas’ hand needed attending to, but didn’t mention exactly what. He walked over to Castiel and stared down at his bleeding hand; the wound now open at one end.

“He just had an accident with the ball,” Sam replied, entering the kitchen with a brown hand towel and a roll of gauze.

“It’s fine,” Cas reassured. “Only hurts if I touch it.” He tried to give Dean a reassuring smile. His hand was still bleeding—not a lot of blood, but enough to warrant a worried expression from Dean.

Sam had sat next to him by now and was mopping up the sticky red.

“Here.” Sam held out the towel to Dean, who just stared at it perplexedly. “Apply pressure to the cut,” Sam explained and Dean finally took the towel.

He sat in the chair next to Castiel and gently wrapped the towel around the cut, applying pressure to it, but being careful not to cause the teen pain.

“One day, Cas, and already you’re busting your stitches open?” Dean gave the boy a smile, showing he was just joking.

“I’m just going to check on the boys and Kevin,” Sam declared, walking over to the screen door. “Just keep applying pressure until it stops bleeding.”

“I know how to treat a cut, Sam,” Dean argued a little defensively. Sam just rolled his eyes and walked out the door.

“I am okay,” Cas murmured once Sam had gone. He gritted his teeth at the pain the pressure caused, but he tried not to show it to Dean. He didn’t want to worry him further.

“Are you okay, Dean?” He asked gently, placing his good hand on the man's arm.

Dean stared at Castiel questioningly. “Of course I’m okay. I’m not the one who’s bleeding. Why do you ask?” Dean looked down at Castiel's hand then back up to the piercing blue eyes.

Dean used his free hand to rub up and down Castiel’s wrist soothingly when he felt Castiel tighten his hand in pain.

“You’ve been moody all week. Did you talk to Sam yet?” Dean's rough fingers soothing his skin were a blessing, and he rumbled affection in his chest.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, giving Castiel a guilty look. “I did talk to him; everything is okay.” Dean continued to run his fingers along Castiel’s skin, dropping his gaze to Castiel's arm. “Was I that bad to deal with?” He knew he was being difficult around Sam, but he didn't want that to transition towards Cas.

“The tension just feels weird around the boys,” Cas admitted. “I think they think you're this big scary guy who takes no shit because you're just moody. I get it; you have stuff to deal with. But when it affects everyone else, they get a bit... wary.” Cas looked apologetically at Dean, grasping his arm gently, giving him a small smile. “But I understand; I do.”

Dean drew his hand back, pulling it away from Castiel’s arm and out of his grasp. He stared at Castiel, feeling a little hurt by his choice of words. Did people really think that about him? “Was I really that bad?”

Cas' breath caught in his throat and he felt his eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, knot coiling in his stomach. “Shit, Dean, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” A sense of dread filled him. Why did he always open his mouth and fuck things up?

He took the cloth and gauze from Dean. “I-I can do this m-myself, it’s fine.” He bundled the items together and held them close to his chest around his hand. He stood and shuffled over to the door. “I’m sorry,” he whispered finally before heading out of the room.

Cas ran up the stairs, nearly tripping twice, and stumbled into his shared room. He clumsily wrapped the fresh gauze around his hand and felt around under his mattress for something. He pulled out a pill bottle, almost identical to the painkillers on his nightstand, except it was half filled with cannabis.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, as he placed both elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands. He pushed off the chair roughly and moved to follow where Castiel had disappeared to. It seemed like lately, he just couldn't say the right thing without offending the boy. He slowly walked up that stairs, trying to give the boy as much time as he could, but he knew with his cut hand, they had to make sure he was all right.

Castiel’s door was closed and he considered just walking in, but he didn't want to dig himself further in the hole than he already was.

“Cas?” he knocked and waited for a response.

Cas was in the middle of rolling papers around the spongy green substance, unsuccessfully as he could only comfortably use one hand. He barely reacted to Dean’s voice, merely raising his head from his task and calling back, “Go away, Dean. I fucked up again. You don’t want to be around me.” He continued stuffing the papers, finally getting one to sit right. He twisted the end and placed it carefully in his pocket before hiding his things. He was going to smoke it outside once Dean left. But it didn't seem like he would get to.

“Cas,” Dean called again from outside the door, “I’m not mad at you—I'm mad at myself. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Dean grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open. He spotted Cas sitting on his bed, hand still bleeding, but the towel was lying next to him.

Dean walked over to Cas, kneeling on the floor in front of him and picked up the towel. “You should be applying pressure to this.” The young man smiled softly at Cas, trying to show him he really wasn't mad.

Cas’ eyes shined with tears again. He couldn't help it –Dean was so accommodating; so patient. And he was being a petulant child, planning on smoking his sorrows away. Which honestly would make things a million times worse, especially if Dean or one of the others found out. “Dean,” he whispered shakily. “Help me. I c-can’t... these emotions, I...” His voice caught, and it forced a choked breath out of him, which triggered him to start crying—again. This was not something he thought would become part of his routine.

Dean looked at Cas with sad eyes; he just wanted to help the boy. He stretched up, wrapping his free arm around Cas, pulling him closer. He placed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead and pulled his face towards his chest.

“Shh, Cas,” the older man soothed, “It’s okay.” He ran his hand lightly through his hair and pulled gently at the hair at the nape of his neck—something his mom used to do—and continued his movement.

Cas cried messily into Dean’s chest, not even trying to move to hold him back, just limply sitting and sobbing. Cas felt so fucking stupid. He was such a cliché teenager. He didn’t understand why Dean even wasted his time with him.

Did he say that bit out loud? He wasn’t sure. He repeated it anyway. “Why d-do you waste y-your t-time with-th me?” he stammered. "I-I’m–I’m n-not even worth it.”

“Don’t say that,” Dean murmured, but even his own voice didn’t sound convincing. Something about Castiel’s words rang loudly in his head: not worth it. It was something Dean felt for so long, after his mom died; after his father stared to drink and put him in charge of Sam. Sam, who looked up to Dean with so much adoration, while Dean couldn't understand why when he did nothing but fuck things up for them.

He was used to boys crying and feeling like they didn't deserve the Winchesters’ kindness, though some did retaliate angrily, Dean never felt such a connection with anyone than he did with Castiel.

“It’s okay to cry, Cas. No one is going to judge you.” Dean didn’t answer Castiel’s question, instead he just comforted the boy, being there for him as he had for others in the past.

Cas let Dean hold him as he cried, tears slowly dissipating until Cas was just leaning sleepily on Dean's chest. The man's hands were rubbing soothing patterns into his back and neck and he thought he might drift off.

“I’ll always be here for you, Cas,” Dean mumbled into Castiel’s hair. “Please remember that.” Dean felt Castiel slouch in his arms.

He jumped upright, remembering he had a joint to smoke. “Dean,” he murmured, schooling his voice. “I’m sorry about all this, and thank you for-for being here, but I think I’d like to take a nap.”

“Let’s just get your hand fixed up and then you can sleep,” the young man negotiated. He pulled away from Castiel gently and unwrapped the towel. The bleeding had lessened, but there was still some crimson liquid running out of the cut.

Dean took the gauze, carefully cutting it and wrapping it around Castiel's hand. “How’s that?” Dean let go of the bandage, letting Cas feel the tightness.

Cas nodded, even smiling slightly at Dean. When the teen nodded in approval, Dean grabbed the tape.

“You know, I’m glad you finally tried to spend time with the other boys,” Dean let out a chuckle at the end. “Though when I suggested it I didn’t mean get hurt while doing it.” He glanced up at Cas, smirking when the boy rolled his eyes.

“This is why I don’t participate,” Cas grumbled, “I just end up hurt. Helping Kevin ended up in an injury.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. This is not the first injury I’ve taken care off.” Dean taped down the gauze and grabbed the bandage roll. He unrolled the dressing, grabbing the scissors to cut a strip. He took Castiel’s hand again and began covering the cut again.

Neither of them realised that Sam had never returned, nor did they see the tall figure standing in the doorway, watching as his brother comforted the boy. He almost thought nothing of it, but then Dean placed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead, mumbling something he couldn’t hear. The gesture alerted something in Sam, but he wouldn’t do anything, not until he knew more. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions, but a nagging feeling in the back of his head told him he wasn’t—to watch out.

There was a shift in the air and Castiel felt as if there was a presence of an extra person. He looked up, noticing Sam for the first time. He freaked out for a second, but Sam didn’t appear mad. Maybe he hadn’t seen Dean kiss him just now.

Cas clung to that hope as he alerted Dean to Sam's presence by greeting the tall man. “Hi, Sam,” he murmured, throwing him a smile. “Thank you for earlier.”

Castiel’s voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts and quickly refocused his attention. He looked to Castiel and notice the boy was smiling at him. Damn it, he didn't mean to gain the boy’s attention.

Sam just nodded to Castiel but didn’t say anything. He dropped his gaze down to Dean, who was still on the floor. “Kevin’s looking for you, Dean,” Sam said, avoiding looking at Castiel to clue in his brother of his suspicions.

Dean followed Sam outside, to find the boys were still playing but had switched games. They looked like they were enjoying themselves, which pleased Dean. He just wished Cas would sometimes join in with the boys—he's tried to convince him before, but Castiel always declined and just decided to help out Kevin or him. Speaking of whom, Dean looked around only to not see a single sign of the younger man.

“So where is Kevin?” Dean asked, turning around to face Sam.

“He went out.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said he was looking for me.”

“He was,” Sam said simply, focusing on his brother's stance. “I told him I’d get you. You’re in charge of watching the boys now.”

“You could have just told me, Sammy,” Dean grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“I could’ve,” Sam agreed, “But would you have agreed?” Sam gave Dean a challenging look and fear filled him. Shit, did he know? No, he tried to reason; Sam wouldn’t be this calm if he knew.

“Fine,” Dean said, apparently giving the correct answer.

“Go work on your car or something, but stay close.” Sam then turned around and walked back into the house.

* * *

Cas watched Dean leave the room with his brother, thankfully closing the door. Dean thought Cas was going to nap. Instead, Castiel rummaged around under his mattress again, this time for his lighter, and moved over to the window. There was a ledge wide enough to walk on that led to the roof maybe six feet away.Cas pulled open the glass, carefully slipped out, and shuffled along to the roof.

Castiel had been wanting to light up for days now. No one exactly got addicted to weed, but really liked the feeling. And he missed it. He pulled out his messy joint and lighter and lit up.

The first hit made him splutter a little, not used to the sharp smoke in his lungs. By the third hit, he was sucking in the fumes as if they were oxygen. Cas already felt lightheaded, airy, void. He felt like he wasn't real, and he giggled at the thought.

He finished his joint and slipped the butt into his pocket, not wanting anyone to find evidence. He stayed on the roof for a while, looking out at the surrounding grounds. The air felt lighter, the sky was brighter, and colours were sharper. _God_ , he’d missed this feeling.

Once his high had started to become manageable, Cas edged his way back along the ledge and into the bedroom again, where he flopped down onto his bed and passed out immediately.

* * *

Sam had avoided Dean all afternoon and only came back to talk to him when dinner was ready. The cold shoulder from Sam was rare and when it happened, it meant shit had happened.

Cas awoke from the best sleep in his life, still in the same position. He was still a little high, but not enough that people would notice. He could smell dinner wafting up to his room, so he slipped out of bed and headed down to the kitchen.

Everyone had only just started eating, and they all greeted him warmly, asking about his hand. All except Sam. Cas found that strange, considering how they had bonded over the past few days. They'd only just started forming a friendship. Cas couldn't help but wonder if the man knew. But it was impossible—Dean and he had been too careful to get caught. What was it, then? Dean was pleased when he saw Castiel enter the dining room, joining them for dinner, but he avoided any direct eye contact. If that was the reasoning behind Sam’s strange behavior, then he knew Cas and he would have to be extra careful—they could no longer meet in his room. Dinner passed without much incident. Kevin remained missing, which cause Sam to idly announce Kevin had just gone home for the day. The youngest Winchester kept a close eye on his brother and the teen, but nothing suspicious alerted his attention... Yet.

Dean was assigned to do the dishes, which was normally Kevin’s task, but since the kid was at home, it was his job.

Cas stayed back to help Dean with the task while everyone went to do their own thing. He dried and put away as his hand would not permit him too close to the water.

After they had cleaned about half of the dishes, Cas decided to ask if Dean had noticed Sam during dinner. “I swear, he was watching us,” he whispered. “Do you think he knows?”

Dean was silent for a moment, mulling over Castiel’s question. Though the same question had passed his mind multiple times through the evening, he didn’t want to worry Castiel.

“I don’t think so,” Dean said honestly, though he was seriously starting to doubt it. “Sam would have let me know. He’s not one to just sit around if something pisses him off—he’ll let you know.” Dean tried to give Castiel a reassuring smile as he handed the boy a clean plate. “I wouldn't worry about it.” Now if he could convince himself of that.

Cas smiled back, taking the plate from him. He glanced around to make sure no one would see, then pressed a kiss to Dean’s stubbled cheek as he looked back to the sink. “Good,” he murmured, “Because I’ve been thinking about you and last night all through dinner,” he said the last part under his breath.

Dean nodded; glad Castiel had believed him. He handed another plate to Castiel for him to dry, easily settling back into the normal routine.

“We do have to be careful though,” Dean said, while scrubbing at a serving spoon. “The other night was too close. I know we’ve been lucky before, but we do have to be careful. I don’t want to lose you, Cas.” Dean dropped the spoon and used dishtowel to dry his hands before pulling Castiel towards him.

Cas let Dean pull him close, but he looked around the room again just in case. “Like you said, we have to be careful,” Cas reprimanded half-heartedly, a slight chuckle in his tone. He wrapped a hand loosely around the man's upper arm, leaning into his touch.

Dean narrowed his eyes playfully and placed a soft kiss to his lover's lips. “Of course we do.” Dean smirked and pulled back, attending to his previous task.

Cas hummed into the kiss and whined when Dean pulled away. He knew better, though, and went back to drying the dishes.

Throughout the chore, Cas stole glances at the man soaping up dishes. Dean was beautiful. It hadn't hit him until just now, but Cas noticed more than ever the smattering of freckles across Dean's cheeks and the gleam in his green eyes.

Dean felt Castiel’s piercing gaze on him. Normally such a look would irritate him, but instead he was feeling a little flustered. “What?” Dean asked, turning to Cas, shaking his hands dry.

Cas was caught off guard for a moment, silent for a few seconds before saying, “Oh, nothing. Just... You’re...” he was stumbling, not sure how to compliment the man without sounding sappy. “Don't worry,” he gushed, drying the final plate and placing it in the cupboard.

Dean raised his eyebrows, an amused look spread across his face. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” Dean teased, nudging Castiel playfully as he walked past him to hang the towel over the oven handle.

Cas blushed at Dean’s words, giggling as Dean's elbow nudged his ribs. “Well, you’re- you’re uhh-” he cleared his throat, still not able to finish his sentence. What was with him lately? He couldn't even compliment his lover without getting embarrassed.

Dean chuckled and turned back to Castiel. The boy was still flustered and turning slightly pink. The colour reflected against his eyes, making the vibrant blue stand out even more. Dean cupped Castiel's face, smiling softly and placing a delicate kiss to the boy’s lips.

Castiel sighed into the kiss, grateful that Dean wasn't annoyed by his behaviour. He pulled back quickly though, not wanting to get caught.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, reminding him that the others were only in the next room.

Dean sighed and reluctantly pulled away. “I know,” he said, almost sadly, and pulled away farther.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY OF THIS UPDATE!! Life just got in the way, and I started a new story, which has taken up a lot more of my time. 
> 
> I don't know when I will update again, but I promise it will not be another three months between updates.
> 
> Thank you to my beta and friend, AndromedaeStarStom69 for editing this chapter for me,

It was official: Dean was in love. He loved Castiel. It might be too soon, after only over three months of sneaking around. He didn't know when it happened, but he knew when he realized.

It was the day Castiel and he went to the grocery store together. Dean had volunteered for the task and invited Castiel along, leaving Kevin and Sam with the boys. If Sam was against it, he didn't voice his opinion, he just nodded and handed Dean a list of things they needed.

It was one of the few occasions they got to be alone together, without the risk of prying eyes, nor Sam’s hovering. Even though they still didn't know if Sam knew, they were still extra cautious. It had been a week since they last had time together, aside from a few quick kisses between chores. Dean missed having Castiel close to him, so he jumped at the opportunity. This was also their first trip in the Impala together since Castiel had first arrived.

They were driving down the road from the house, pulling on the main road when Dean reached over to grab Castiel's hand. They had the windows down, letting a warm breeze from the August blow in. The heavy bass of Led Zeppelin played quietly in the background... Well quieter than usual.

Castiel was replaying the last couple of weeks over in his head. He hated that they had to be overly cautious; he hated keeping secrets, but he knew this one was for the best.

His hand had healed and he got the stitches taken out. He didn't have full range just yet, but there was next to no pain. His regular toke on the roof helped with the pain, as well as to reduce his panic attacks.

In the time between their close call with Sam and their sneaking around, Cas realized that what he felt for Dean was more than he first thought. Every time those green eyes caught him, his chest swelled with pride. Dean wanted him of all people, and it made Castiel fall for the man.

Castiel was enjoying this alone time with Dean. Dean was holding his hand. It gave him butterflies to be touching the man in a way that wasn't sexual. It was nice, comfortable and safe. Cas hadn't had much experience with safe, and he reveled in the feeling.

Cas turned to look at Dean, his features relaxed. The sun circled his head like a halo and Castiel couldn't think of anything more fitting. Cas couldn't help it. The words bubbled forth and he couldn't stop them. Only after he'd said them did he pause to think about them.

"I love you."

Dean was so lost in his thoughts he almost believed that he imagined Castiel saying those three words, until he turned to glance at the boy and saw him gnaw on his lip with uncertainty.

A wide smile spread across Dean’s face when he realized Cas actually did. Dean wasn’t planning on saying those words just yet, but when he heard Castiel say them, Dean didn’t question he felt the same way.

"I love you too," Dean confessed without hesitation and leaned forward to peck Castiel's lips. He felt joy bloom through him. After weeks of fighting with himself, he realized what was wrong with him and he was glad it was said without any risk of someone catching them.

Cas let out the breath he was holding and smiled. Dean felt the same way. He couldn't be happier. The rest of the way to the store was a breeze. It almost felt like they were flying.

* * *

 

Cas drifted through the store behind Dean, riding on a cloud of glee. He collected items from shelves when he was told and pecked Dean's cheek each time he deposited an item in the cart. The whole scene had an air of domesticity laced into it, and Cas wanted it forever.

They didn't hold hands as they walked through the store. The little kisses Castiel gave Dean, and he would ruffle Castiel's hair were the only signs of affection they allowed each other.

They were little actions, but they meant a lot to both of them, especially with the new meaning behind them. It was nice to be openly affectionate without the worry of someone finding them.

"Is there anything you want to get for dinner?" Dean asked as they walked down the canned goods aisle. The question was simple and innocent, but Dean couldn't help but feel slightly domestic asking it. They never gave any of the boys this kind of leisure, but this, this was... Different, and Dean found himself liking it.

Castiel curled an arm around Dean's and looked at the shelf of canned foods. "Well," he said, an air of importance gracing his voice. "I wanted to try out a pasta bake, if you'll let me cook." He glanced at Dean hopefully and smoothed his hand down the man's bicep. Yeah. He could get used to this.

Dean looked at Castiel, giving him a loving smile. "If that's what you want.” Dean moved his free arm over to his other arm, placing his hand over the one hand Castiel had placed on his forearm. He leaned down slightly to close the distance and kissed Castiel quickly, but passionately. "We definitely can do that," he finished off when he pulled back.

Cas smiled into the kiss before pulling away. "I'll go get the stuff we need," he told Dean as he walked away.

Dean watched Castiel walk off, a stupidly huge grin on his face. Damn it, he was already turning into a lovesick fool. "This is what you've done to me, Cas," Dean mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief that he was this attached to someone after only such a short amount of time.

Never has he felt like this so soon. There was Lisa, but even that had been almost half a year before they said those words and then it all went to Hell shortly after, which concerned Dean; this relationship was already causing them to walk a fine line where the slightest slip up could break them.

Dean shook his head, trying to rid his head of the thoughts—they'd deal with it if it came to that. He pushed the cart down the aisle, following where Cas had gone, but instead he went to the dairy section, knowing Castiel would just find him.

As Cas walked down the aisles looking for ingredients, a smile split his face open so wide, he thought his skin would peel off. Even just the thought of cooking for Dean felt homey. He wouldn't trade this for the world Cas found Dean near the ice cream, arms laden with pasta, sauce, chicken and spinach, enough for all eleven of them. He dumped it all into the cart and smiled triumphantly at Dean.

Dean was staring at a bunch of ice cream bars. Sam had asked for some frozen yogurt shit and he was trying to find it. A voice brought him back and he turned to see Castiel standing in front of the cart, a variety of new items lying across the miniature garden of vegetables Sam had insisted he get.

"I have hunted and gathered," Castiel joked, looking at the shelves for cheese. "I've got everything except cheese. Meet you at the checkout?"

Dean nodded when Castiel said he would meet him at the checkout. "And eggs," he said, before he turned back to the frozen treats. He finally found the damn bars and headed to the front of the store.

Dean had placed half the cart on the conveyor belt by the time Cas showed up with eggs and cheese. Once all the items were scanned and Dean had paid, the two men lugged the shopping bags out to the car and headed back to the house.

The sun was getting low in the sky and Cas was warm and happy. Happy. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it down, reaching over to Dean and laying a gentle hand on his thigh.

Dean inhaled a sharp breath when he felt Castiel's hand land on his thigh. He was already having trouble controlling himself after their confession of love, coupled with the fact that Castiel was wearing his shirt. It was just a plain black shirt; no one would realize it didn't belong to the boy except for the couple.

"Cas?" Dean gripped the wheel a little tighter and chanced a look at the teen.

Cas caught the gleam of arousal in Dean's eyes as he shot a look at him. He wasn't stupid, or blind. It was definitely there. He slid his hand slowly up his thigh. "Mmm," he growled out, playing on Dean's ears. "Yes, Dean?"

"Cas," Dean growled, narrowing eyes at Castiel. The little bastard knew what he was doing. Dean's knuckles were now white as visions of Castiel in the Impala on his first day invaded his mind. He hadn't been able to go near his car along without thinking of Castiel in it or outside on his knees.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned, his voice dropping dangerously low.

Cas grinned at Dean, not able to keep the subtlety up. "But Dean," he teased. "You want me to." He dragged his hand up further, finally reaching Dean's half hard cock, rubbing it over the denim.

"Shit," he cursed through gritted teeth, almost swerving into the other lane when Castiel rubbed his hand against him. "Cas, seriously," he said, trying to push Castiel's hand away—halfheartedly. “You need to stop."

Cas' smile dropped. "Oh." He pulled his hand back, looking away. Why was he always so terrible at reading Dean? "Sorry," he murmured, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. He wasn't used to rejection from Dean, real or not, and it hurt.

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled, pulling over to the side of the road. He put the car in 'park' and leaned over to where Castiel was sitting. He grabbed the boy's face roughly and pulled him towards him. The kiss was rough and long.

"I needed you to stop, Cas, because I didn't want to crash." Dean looked at Castiel, still holding the teen's face so he was forced to meet his eyes. "Just because I said no doesn’t mean I don’t want you. You have no idea how much you truly affect me."

"Oh," Castiel said again, voice breaking with relief. He surged forward and attacked Dean's mouth with his own, grabbing at the man's shirt and tried to climb into his lap. "I'm sorry," he breathed, pressing kisses all over the man's face. "I'm really bad," kiss, "with social," kiss, "interaction sometimes."

"It's fine," Dean reassured, pulling Castiel down on his lap. In the time since Castiel had been there, Dean had grown used to Castiel jumping to conclusions and assuming that he had done something wrong. They had since become rare, but once in a while someone or Dean would say something to Cas and the boy would close up again.

Castiel started shifting against Dean, peppering light kisses all over the man's face. “Cas,” Dean groaned out, feeling himself harden. Now was not the time, here on the side of the road, where a car could pass by at any moment. Dean wanted to push Castiel off before he did something stupid, but his fingers only tightened around the boy's hips.

"I know," Cas murmured against Dean's cheek. "Just, please—quickly. It feels like forever ago." Truthfully, it had only been a week and a half, but when they had to sneak around, a week was a long time. They barely got any time alone, as they didn't want to raise suspicions. With Sam suddenly interested in how Dean was spending his time, he had to watch his step. Cas understood, but now he was over waiting. He didn't care how, he just had to have Dean, like, yesterday.

"God, Cas," Dean moaned and pulled Castiel's face to his. The kiss was rough and needy, both males knowing where it was leading. Dean was practically sucking in Castiel's lips, nipping and biting down on the bottom lip every so often. "We-we do this," Dean panted out, pulling back from the kiss, "it has to be quick."

"Yes, quick, I promise," Cas whined, pushing his lips back to Dean's. He reached down between them, unzipping Dean's jeans and pushing his briefs out of the way, freeing his hard dick. He quickly unzipped his own pants and pulled out his cock too. He curled his hand around their joined throbbing arousal and pumped slow. Their cocks rubbing together deliciously.

"Shit, Cas," Dean cried, dropping his head back against the seat. Dean bucked up in his seat, causing a sense of pleasure spread through him as his dick rubbed against Castiel’s.

"Tighter. Cas," Dean growled, wrapping his hand around the boy's to tighten his hold, creating a vice-like grip.

Cas whimpered when Dean enveloped Cas' hand with his own. Dean was bigger, stronger, so the action created an increased friction. Cas dropped forward, burying his face in Dean's neck, muffling his gasps of pleasure.

Dean moved his free arm around Cas, keeping him pressed against his chest. He kept his hand wrapped over Cas’, keeping the tight grip and pumping them together.

"God, Cas," Dean moaned when Castiel whimpered into his neck. Dean hand was slick with pre-come, as his mixed with Cas’.

It was all too much. Dean loved him; loved him enough to stop his freak outs. Freak outs that were slowly going away, because of Dean. Loved him enough to let him cook. Loved him enough to soothe his aching hand. Loved him enough to do this on the side of the road where anyone could see them. It sent a shockwave through Cas. Tears pricked his eyes, this time for a good reason, and he grasped at Dean's shirt with his free hand.

"Dean," he whined, biting gently at his shoulder. "I'm close." So close, that only after a few more pumps, he was spilling all over himself and Dean, hips canting forward to chase his orgasm.

"Let go," Dean encouraged, pumping faster with Cas hand, bring the teen closer to his release. "I've got you," he mumbled.

Soon Castiel was crying out, spilling over their hands.

Dean growled, Castiel's hips bucking forward, sliding himself against Dean. The man gave a few more pumps before he let his own orgasm wash over him. He cried out Cas' name, then went slack against his seat, attempting to catch his breath.

Cas followed Dean as he slumped in his seat, draping his frame over Dean's and lazily kissed his neck. He grumbled affection and happiness into the man's skin and pulled back. Reluctantly, he slid off Dean and sat back in his own seat.

They were a mess, and Cas giggled. He took off his over shirt and mopped up his and Dean's cocks, making sure there were no questionable stains. Once clean, he leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek.

Dean let Castiel clean them; feeling cared for by the younger male. Normally it was him who took care of the boy, made sure he was looked after before himself. Dean always put everyone else before himself and it felt strange to submit to Castiel's tenderness and allow the boy to take care of him, however trivial the act was.

Dean reached over and ran his fingers along Castiel's cheek, dipping down where his jaw ended and down to the side of his neck. He pulled at the neckline of Castiel's shirt, revealing the faded marks he had left during their last escapade. He leaned over and gently kissed one of the least faded.

Cas hummed contentedly at the feel of Dean's warm, dry lips on his skin, feeling sleepy. The sun was warm on his face and Dean was solid by his side. He was happy.

Dean pulled back reluctantly and looked at his watch. "We should get back," Dean said, giving Cas an apologetic look. He didn't want to leave, to go back to hiding, but it was getting too late and they didn't need another reason to raise Sam's suspicion. After a couple of months of careful sneaking around, Sam was starting to back off and Dean intended to keep it that way.

Cas sighed, but agreed with Dean. The others would be wondering where they were. Besides, he needed time to cook his pasta bake.

"Okay," Cas murmured, smiling back at Dean.

Dean put the car in drive and pulled back into the road. The drive was short and silent, and all too soon Dean was parking the Impala back in the shed.

They took the groceries out of the trunk, each carrying a share of the bags.

"Wait," Dean said, when Castiel started to walk out of the shed. Dean walked over to his lover and placed a passionate kiss to his lips. "One last time," he explained and led the way to the house.

Cas was taken aback by the brief kiss, stunned into silence. He waited a few beats before trailing behind Dean to the house, a goofy smile gracing his face. He managed to school his features before entering the house.

The boys were all in the lounge, and greeted Dean and Cas cordially. Cas smiled back and headed into the kitchen, putting away all the groceries except the ones he needed for dinner.

"You two took your sweet time," Kevin teased, sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop in front of him. He gave the two a scolding look, but it was all in good nature. Dean smirked, but didn't justify the comment with a response. He started unloading his share of the groceries, placing them all on the counter.

"Sam was thinking about making some spinach dish for dinner," Kevin spoke again, turning his body towards the two males. "I told him no fucking way. Sorry." Though Dean openly swore around Cas, the three men typically tried to refrain from such language around the boys. "So you better have some ideas or I'm going out for dinner."

Dean made a face at the mention of spinach. Of course his brother would think something like that would be appropriate for dinner. He sometimes seemed to forget he was living with a bunch of boys.

"Cas wants to make dinner," Dean supplied and Kevin's face relaxed in relief.

"Thank God," Kevin leaned his head back dramatically. "What are you making?" he asked, sounding mildly interested as he looks back at the boy.

"I thought I'd make that pasta bake you showed me the recipe for," Cas replied, hastily providing an alternative. Kevin seemed pleased with the idea and offered to help him cook. The boy gladly accepted and the two got to work. "Did you want to help too, Dean?" he asked amicably.

"Nah," Dean declined, moving away from the counter to give them more space. "I'll just watch." He took a seat in the chair opposite from Kevin's laptop and turned it so he was facing them.

Kevin and Cas cooked, moving around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine. They worked together well, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Kevin.

"Dude, we could open our own place one day," he enthused, jokingly, nudging Cas as he cooked. "Serve the best homemade food in the county."

Cas agreed, but admitted cooking wasn't a passion for him, just a hobby. "I like cooking, but I don't think I would enjoy working in the industry.” Kevin laughed and said he understood.

Dean just watched them the whole time, occasionally make a comment or two when they said something.

"Kevin, just because you make one good meal, does not mean it's your 'calling’." Dean teased when Kevin got a little too excited over the idea of opening a restaurant.

 

They finished cooking just in time for the sun to completely sink beneath the horizon. They called the boys in and set the table, serving mounds of pasta bake on large plates.

When they all sat down for dinner, Sam sat at the head of the table. Unfortunately that meant Dean had to sit at the other end like Sam was doing. However, luck seemed to be on their side when everyone else sat down before Castiel, leaving the only open seat the one on Dean's left.

Cas walked over to his seat, carrying his own plate to the remaining chair. In his haste to sit down, he didn't realize he would be sitting next to Dean until he pulled out his chair. He grinned nervously, a blush colouring his cheeks, and began eating, slowly—deliberately chewing every mouthful with care. He didn't want to appear like a slob to Dean.

Dean grinned at Cas, but made it friendly, instead of the sly smile that he wanted to do. Most times they purposely sat away from each other, but since today was...inevitable, Dean was going to make the most of it.

He waited until Castiel had swallowed his current bite before he acted on his impulse. He slowly toed off his boots so he wouldn’t cause too much movement. He then slowly slid a foot up Castiel's leg closest to him.

Cas was in the middle of piling his fork with pasta, but he paused at the feeling of what was unmistakably a foot sliding up his calf.

He flushed furiously, drawing attention from Sam on the other side of the table. "You okay, Cas?" he asked, worried at the state of Cas' skin.

"Y-yeah," was Cas' reply. "Just a bit hot in here." It wasn't entirely a lie –the summer was brutal here –but it'd been cooling lately.

Sam seemed to accept it, however, and went back to his food. Cas exhaled slowly and edged his thigh closer to Dean, brushing it against the older man's. It was the only contact he knew he could have. Dean slid a hand under the table and placed it on Castiel's knee, lightly rubbing it to tell him to calm down. He understood his…lover’s sudden reaction, but they didn't want to draw more attention from anyone than what was necessary.

Castiel then shifted his chair over, so his thigh bumped against his. With an impassive face, Dean slowly let his hand travel farther up Castiel's leg as he took a bite of his dinner. Cas tried to stay calm throughout dinner, but it was proving difficult. Dean's hand was inching higher and higher up the boy’s leg, and the boy was sporting an impressive hard-on. It strained against his jeans, begging to be let out.

Cas held his breath, willing away the arousal—to no avail. Dean's hand was hot and solid on his thigh, rubbing massaging circles into the denim clad skin. It was unbearably hot.

Dean stopped just before the boy's cock. He could feel it straining against the teenager's jeans, but he wanted to tease Castiel a little. Dean just continued eating, massaging a little harder into Castiel's thigh and he started to move his foot again, but he refused to give his lover the friction he needed.

Cas barely stopped himself from letting out a frustrated grunt. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn't going to let up. The only thing he could do was sit tight and keep eating.

It was slow going. Cas' hands were shaking and he tried to disguise it by shoving as much food into his mouth as possible, as quickly as possible, hiding his hands under the table in his lap between bites, so people didn't notice the quakes.

Dean could tell Castiel was growing frustrated. The boy kept moving his thigh to get Dean to move his hand up higher, but as soon as the boy shifted, Dean's hand would stop and pat Cas' leg reassuringly. Finally when Castiel was taking a sip of water, Dean cupped his hand around the boy's throbbing cock, squeezing it through the denim.

Cas choked and sputtered, shocked by Dean's touch. He managed to settle fairly quickly, but not before the others all turned their eyes on him questioningly.

"I'm fine," he rasped, clearing his throat. "Drank too fast." He silently cursed Dean for his terrible timing, frowning down at the remainder of his pasta. He shovelled the rest of it into his mouth, chewing quickly and swallowed hard before downing the rest of his water. At least now he wouldn't choke.

Dean smirked at Castiel's reaction and the subtle glare he shot him after everyone had looked away. Dean didn't know what was encouraging him to be so risky. Sure, they fucked in his bed, but they never did anything right in front of anyone. Whether it was from the proclamation of their love for each other or the quick fuck in his car earlier, Dean felt the need to tease Castiel and this was the perfect opportunity. Whether it was safe was a different matter altogether.

As the others finished eating and left the table, Cas stayed. He didn't want people to see his raging boner as he stood up. Dean wasn't letting up his strokes any time soon, Cas thought, so he settled in to wait for Dean to finish his food.

It was Samandriel’s turn to do the dishes, and as soon as he was done everyone else cleared the table. Dean was the last one to finish eating, having been a little preoccupied. He quickly finished eating, still stroking Cas, who was now shifting in his seat since they were alone.

Dean began to palm Castiel roughly, when Kevin left the room, leaving them alone. Castiel stiffened a groan and Dean gave him a smug smirk before standing up. He gave Castiel a kiss on the forehead and picked up his plate and carried it into the kitchen.

Once Dean was gone, Cas slumped over and rested his forehead on the cool wood of the table. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. They'd never done that before. Never been so close to the others. They could've seen. The thought shouldn't have excited Cas, but he had to admit the risk was exciting.

"My room; fifteen minutes," Dean spoke calmly when he walked back into the dining room, breezing past Cas.

The boy was still slumped against the table and looked dazed. Dean couldn't help the smirk that graced his features at the thought that he had brought Castiel to that state.

Cas straightened up and stared at Dean's back as he left the room, enthralled by how calm the man was. Granted, Dean wasn't the one who was teased to the ends of the earth through dinner, but he couldn't help but feel even more aroused at his stoic demeanour.

Cas adjusted his erection while no one was around, making sure it wouldn't be visible when he stood. He raced up stairs to his room, waiting out the fifteen minutes standing by the bedroom window. He let the cool night air breeze in and over his body, calming him down and soothing the heated flush in his face.

The wait was torture. His hard-on had softened only slightly since dinner, but he was still hard. He was calm enough to be breathing normally and not flushed red, at least.

He glanced at the clock on Benny's bedside table. "Shit," he muttered. He was three minutes late. By the time he got to Dean's room, he'd be four minutes late. No, make that five -- the red LED numbers had just changed again.

Cas hurried out into the hallway and rushed to Dean's room as quietly as he could. He knocked on the door gently, but with urgency.

* * *

 

Dean was pacing around his room waiting for the time when Castiel was to come to his room. He was seriously questioning his judgment now. They never did anything like this before. Sure, they had sex while the others had been in the house, but that was during the night when they were all asleep, everyone was still awake. Usually Dean wasn’t this reckless, he never exploited himself like this, but something about Castiel invaded his mind and all his senses seemed to go hazy.

his nerves were put at ease as soon as a soft knock rang through his quiet room. He pulled open the door slowly, revealing a still flushed looking Cas. Dean's eyes darkened when he saw the boy's face and lust blown eyes. He smiled darkly and allowed the boy to walk in.

As soon as the door was closed, Dean shoved Castiel roughly against the door, pushing his body against the teenager's to keep him in place.

Cas gasped as he was shoved against the door. He moaned into the mouth that was suddenly pressed against his. Their lips locked and slipped around each other, and Cas' hips rocked forward, searching for friction.

Dean gripped one of Castiel's shoulders as his other hand cupped the side of his lover's neck. He tilted Castiel's face up and captured his lips in an eager kiss, moaning when Castiel gripped the collar of his shirt and attempted to pull them impossibly closer. He could feel Castiel's still hard member rub against his lower abdomen.

"Dean," he breathed as their lips parted. "Dean, please. I want... Ungh..." He couldn't finish his sentence, too sensitive from being hard for so long. All he could do was rut into Dean and let the man claim his mouth.

He pleaded with soft moans, grunting whines against Dean's lips. He needed friction. He needed attention. He needed everything he wasn't allowed at dinner. And he wasn't getting it yet.

"Shh." Dean was sucking and biting down on the boy's lips. He knew Castiel was close from his teasing earlier, he knew the boy was desperate, but Dean wasn't ready to release Castiel. He wanted it to last, unlike their tryst in the car.

"We'll get there," he mumbled against Castiel's skin, sucking on his jaw. "Not yet." Dean started rutting against Castiel, causing the boy to claw at the man's back, pulling at his shirt for leverage.

Dean could faintly hear the chatter of everyone downstairs, but he couldn't be bothered to pay attention, not when he had Castiel practically withering against his touches. He was—they were being reckless, but he couldn’t stop. He moved his hand from Castiel's shoulder, teasingly dragging his nails down the boy's chest.

"You're okay, Cas," Dean soothed when Castiel let out a frustrated sob when his lover started massaging his hip, purposely avoiding his cock.

Cas tugged at Dean's shoulder blades, wanting him closer. Dean wasn't giving in. He was teasing Cas even more, if that was possible.

He whined, trying to move his hips so Dean's hand would touch him, but it wasn't working. Dean just moved his hand back to his hip, stilling his movement and pinning him to the door.

"Dean, need," he sobbed out, only able to say one word at a time. He couldn't even move his hips anymore, so there was next to no friction on his cock now. He whined lowly, frustrated. He wanted Dean to touch him, but he also wanted this to take time. He was torn.

Dean sealed his lips over Castiel's again, muffling the boy's cries and pleas. He finally moved his hand, cupping Cas' dick and rubbing slowly, giving the boy friction, but not the friction he needed. "

Does this make you hot?" Dean pulled back, whispering lowly in Castiel's ear. "Me, getting you off, right here, where anyone could come up and find us? You're so noisy; they'll probably hear you cry out my name—know it's me doing this to you; me making you feel this way." Dean squeezed Castiel's cock, pulling a gasp of surprise from the teenager.

Fuck. Dean's voice gruff in his ear coupled with his hand rolling Cas' groin was sending sparks through the boy. "Yes," Cas moaned out, thumping his head back into the door.

"Yes, Dean, so hot. Want everyone to hear. Everyone to know." He didn't really; he knew they'd be in trouble. But the idea of it was making Cas hot in ways he never thought he'd know. “Please,” he sobbed.

“Please. more.” He rutted his hips, fucking his clothed dick into the older man's hand. His fingers were trembling with the effort of holding back, of letting Dean take what he wanted. It was hard, but he loved it—wanted Dean to use him. The thought sent a shockwave through him and he bucked forward, hard.

Dean took pity on the trembling boy and finally undid Castiel's pants. He reached into the boy's boxers and pulled out his leaking cock.

"So beautiful," Dean mumbled, his eyes drifting from the cock to Castiel's flushed face. His face was stained red and his eyes were glassy and dark.

Dean wrapped his hand around the base, running his thumb over the tip, spreading the beads of pre-come. "Is this what you want, Cas?" Dean continued to whisper, his voice dropping an octave.

Cas moaned when Dean finally took his cock into hand, but growled in frustration at how loose his grip was. He gasped as the man's thumb slid over his slit, slicking up the tip with liquid. "Y-yes," he stuttered. "So n-nice, Dean. S-so ... O-ooh..." He couldn't take it.

Dean pumped his hand along the base, creating the friction he knew Castiel wanted, but kept his grip loose, still wanting to test Castiel restraint.

Castiel thrust his hips forward, still kind of pinned but enough to cause a slight amount of friction. He was so hard, and he told Dean this with his fingernails, digging them into his shoulders.

Castiel's grip was tight against him and Dean took the hint, giving his lover what he wanted. His grip was like a vice, causing the boy to moaned in relief. He loosened his grip on Castiel's hip, allowing the boy to buck against his hand.

As Dean's hand clamped around his dick, Cas cried out, almost a sob. He was given leeway to fuck into Dean's hand, so he did. The way was slicked by his pre-come and he slipped in and out of Dean's fist easily.

The pressure was consistent and delicious, and Castiel could feel an orgasm building in the pit of his stomach. His cockhead was aching by this point and all he wanted was to come. But he wouldn't without permission. It needed to be up to Dean to let him explode.

"Dean, I need, need to come, please." His voice was breathy and high, and his hips were slamming against Dean rapidly. "Please, give me permission. Need to know you want it."

"Let go," Dean commanded, giving in to Cas instantly. “Come for me.” He tightened the hand that was cupping Castiel's neck, and pulled Castiel's face to his. He kissed Castiel, muffling the boy's cries as he fucked harder into Dean's hand, desperate for his release.

Cas' thrusts grew erratic, and as soon as Dean permitted, his orgasm hit. His cry was muffled by Dean's lips on his own, and he came with a few broken moans breathed into Dean's mouth. He kept bucking through his orgasm, his come covered Dean's fist. Once he had emptied himself, he slowed his thrusts, steadying them so that Dean's hand was just soothing the boy's aching flesh. He was over sensitized and raw, but he kept thrusting slow, sighing into Dean's mouth as he slipped his tongue in.

Dean hummed against Castiel's mouth, allowing the boy to slip his tongue in. They stayed like that for a few minutes, just slowly kissing while they gently rocked against each other.

"God, Cas," Dean finally said, pulling back and smirking down at the fucked out boy. He placed a light kiss to Castiel lips and pulled away. He moved around a bit and returned with an old t-shirt to clean them. He gently tucked Castiel's softened cock back into his boxers and buttoned up his pants. "I love you."

Cas smiled up at Dean. It takes some getting used to, hearing the words from the man's mouth, but Cas didn't mind.

"I love you, too, Dean," he answered, pulling the man back to him. He kissed Dean's jaw, the stubble pricked his lips.

“What about you?” he asked, not sure if Dean would welcome reciprocation. They'd been gone for quite a while, after all.

"No," Dean shook his head, understanding what Castiel was implying. "This was about you. I can wait."

Dean moved back so Castiel wasn’t pinned to the door and had room to move around. "I guess we should head back," Dean said, sounding almost sad as he looked at the digital clock on his side table. It was still early in the evening and if they stayed up in the room for too long someone would come looking for them—most likely Sam.

Cas smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's mouth. "Thank you," he murmured, affection laced into his tone.

"I'll go down first," he proposed. "Don't take too long. We're watching Point Break tonight."

Dean nodded and with that, Castiel kissed Dean once more, then turned and slipped out of the room. He went into the lounge room where Sam was putting the DVD on and settled into the armchair by the door.

* * *

 

As soon as the door closed, Dean sank down onto the bed as realization set it. Shit, what had he been thinking? Oh yeah...he hadn't been thinking, he reminded himself. As much as he loved his time with Cas, was he did was uncalled for. "Shit. Shit. Shit," he grumbled in his quiet room. They had been too close—too fucking close.

It was a little before twenty minutes when Dean finally made his appearance. The movie had already been playing, but by the look of everyone, they had just started it.

He went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before heading into the living room. He saw—the only seat left was neck to Cas. Luckily Sam had taken the recliner closest to the wall on the other side, so his view would be blocked by the angle.

Dean carefully sat down in the empty seat. Most of the boys were spread out on the floor with pillows, something they liked doing more than sitting on the furniture. Dean looked around and noticed that Kevin was again missing. He figured Sam just let him leave early or Kevin had other commitments tonight. Either way, it was one less person he had to play a role around, so he wasn't going to question it further.

Cas glanced up at Dean, smiling as the man sat down. He was grateful for the familiar warmth that would reside next to him as the movie played. But Dean's face was drawn and he looked stressed.

"Are you all right?" Cas whispered to the man, glancing around to make sure no one heard. Luckily, they were all too engrossed in the movie.

Dean nodded, but continued to stare at the TV. They sat in silence, neither one glancing at each other. They kept a safe distance between them. Sam only glanced over a few times, but Dean figured it was just to check to make sure the boys weren't getting bored.

After how close they had been earlier, Cas knew it was smartest to keep his distance. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, legs crossed at the ankles. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but at least he wasn't tempted to touch Dean somehow.

Dean practically jumped from his seat as soon as the movie was over. It was a little past ten, so Dean knew it would be too early to go to bed. Instead he decided to go down the basement, where none of the boys were allowed.

Cas watched Dean disappear down the basement steps, wanting to follow, but knowing it would be too suspicious. He also knew that Dean probably wanted his privacy. He deserved it. Instead, Cas went into the living room, sitting at the piano and playing a soft tune. Now that his hand was healed, he could use them both and play more complex songs.

Cas stayed at the piano another hour, watching the others all file off to bed. He waited and waited, but when Dean didn't come back up, Cas sighed and headed up to bed himself. He would talk to Dean in the morning.

Cas curled under the blankets, saying goodnight to Luke and Benny and staring up at the ceiling. He lay awake for hours, worrying about Dean. It was only once he heard footsteps on the staircase and a door shutting, he drifted into futile slumber.

* * *

 

Dean remained down the basement until he heard all the boys head upstairs. He didn't know why he was acting like this but he figured it had something to do with his blue-eyed lover. Times with Cas were great, but the sneaking around and secrets were taxing and getting to Dean, especially how he was defying Sammy. That one hurt the most.

"Great fucking job, Winchester," Dean berated himself. His voice was loud in the empty room. "You're really taking hold of your life." Dean felt ashamed for what he was doing.

He had opened the boys’ home to help kids with shitty backgrounds like him. Hoped to help them actually stand a chance in the real world. Hell, if he had had something like that growing up maybe he wouldn't be fucking a seventeen year old boy, even of it was legal.

It was late when Dean finally surfaced from the basement. There were only so many guns Dean could clean before it became a chore. All the lights and doors were closed, which also meant Castiel was asleep. Dean didn't like it, but a wave of relief spread through him when he knew Castiel wouldn't be in his room tonight. He didn't think he could handle him at the moment.

It was a restless and futile sleep. Dean woke up exhausted the next morning... Too early too. Like most days when he was in a mood he went to work on the Impala. No one bothered him when he was there and it was his salvation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time. I can't say how sorry I am. I kind of got out this fandom for a bit, but I'm back. I have all that chapters done and will update again soon.

Castiel jolted up in his bed, panting and swearing.  _Fuck,_ it’s been awhile since he had that particular dream; it almost felt real. 

“Hey,” a soft voice spoke from Castiel’s side.  The boy nearly jumped out of the bed, turning his head towards the sound, almost giving himself whiplash.

Luke was standing near the door, looking a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should approach Castiel.

Castiel tried to offer a reassuring smile, but the gesture fell flat.  He was still visibly shaken by the dream. 

Luke just returned the grimace before telling him that bacon and eggs were waiting for him in the dining room.  Castiel promised he'd be down in a minute, and Luke left.  Castiel stared at the ceiling as if it would answer all the questions he had in his head.  When none of them were answered, Cas sighed and slipped out of bed, heading toward the smell of grease and protein.

Dean wasn't at breakfast. Nothing was said about him, either, but Sam had a scowl on his face that could kill a man so Cas figured they had fought again.  He took a wild guess as to where Dean might be, but he still wasn't sure if he was welcome around him again.  So the boy washed up with Benny and Daniel, before heading outside with the other boys to play a game of baseball.  They didn't have a pitch, but they marked out where the bases would be with caps or shoes.

Over the past few weeks, Cas had been joining in more and more with the other boys, to the point where he actually started to enjoy the sport.  He acknowledged that it wasn't always a competitive game, and that you could play it casually.  Castiel liked it that way.  He didn't have to prove to anyone his skills, of which he lacked.  The boys didn't make fun of him or reprimand him.  They were patient and taught Castiel the rules of the games they played or showed him better techniques on how to do something.  It was nice to be accepted and distracted from Dean's bad moods.

Castiel was nervous about baseball. He was comfortable fielding, but when it came to batting, he was less than confident.  The boys encouraged him, however, and he stepped up to the makeshift plate. He didn't expect a movie moment where he would strike twice and finally knocked the ball out of the park on the third try.  He didn't expect anything.  So when he hit the ball first try and it bounced out to the middle of the second and third base, Castiel was ecstatic.  The boys let him run to first and a smile split his face in two. The quiet boy who played piano and read fantasy novels could hit a ball.

*****

Dean heard excited chattering fill the yard about an hour after he had stepped out of the house.  Usually, they gave the boys an hour off after breakfast to play a game or something before they started their chores.

Dean looked up from the Impala's engine, seeing the boys all fanned out around the side yard, with baseball equipment.

He spotted a mop of dark hair and a pang of annoyance and satisfaction filled him.  It was good for Castiel to finally start hanging out with the boys.  It’s where he should be: playing games, not fucking a man almost ten years older than he.

After about half an hour, Sam came outside to tell the boys that their chores had to be done.  They griped at him but obeyed; collecting their hats and shoes from the ground and putting the baseball bat and ball away.  

Castiel’s chore this week was gardening, which he was content with.  He enjoyed watering the plants and pulling out weeds.  The sun was hot on him today, however, and he was more annoyed than relaxed. He couldn't stop thinking about Dean, either. He hoped he got a chance to talk to the man soon.  

"You've been spending a lot of time out here lately," Sam stated as he walked into the shed.  Sam had just sent the boys off to do their chores and now seemed to have decided to pay Dean a visit.

"I just like working out here," Dean defended pathetically.  "Bullshit."  Sam crossed his arms and took a step forward.  "You're obsessed with this car, but even before you were never out here six-seven hours a day. What the hell do you even do?"

Dean just rolled his eyes and took the rag from his back pocket, rubbing his hands off.  From where he was standing he got a view for the front garden, where Castiel was now walking towards with a watering can.  Dean let his eyes travel over his body. The way he looked in the t-shirt that had risen up slightly exposing a sliver of skin, and jeans. Dean swallowed hard averted his eyes quickly so Sam wouldn't see where his focus had drifted too.

"Something's going on with you Dean.  You've been like this for a while, but it's becoming more noticeable."  Dean scoffed in offense, but Sam didn't listen.  "Dean, you've never been an open person, but please, if something is bothering you, you would tell me.  Right?"  Sam looked to Dean pleadingly.  All of the week's suspicions were gone and replaced with concern.  Dean almost gave in, but the movement of Castiel caught his eye and he remembered why he was in this state.

"Dean, for fuck's sake, you may be my brother and I love you, but you can be so infuriating!" Sam seethed, clenching his hands tightly, as he released his frustration.  Dean had yet to speak more than a broken of the vague sentence and it was pissing his brother.  Sure, Dean's attitude towards his feelings wasn't anything new, but Sam was right, he was being more distant in the past months...since Castiel came.

"Is it something to do with Castiel?" Sam asked, shocking Dean, who dropped a wrench and refused to meet his brother's eyes—the guilty look.  "It's just...you haven't been yourself since he came and I'm just worried if something happened—when he first came here." 

Dean just stared at the dirty ground, jaw clenched tightly, as well as his fists.  "Look, Castiel is going to be 18 in a couple of months.  If you want, we can make him leave if it makes you feel better."  Normally the protocol was they had the boys for as long as their sentence, or if they were there for long term, as soon as they turned 18 they were officially out of their care and had to leave.  However, Dean normally gave the boys a couple of months to get some arrangements settled.  To kick Cas out right away would be unethical for them.  The idea did not make him feel any better, instead, a sicken feeling sank to his stomach, feeling very heavy all of a sudden.

*****

Cas moved around the house, watering the flowers and pulling weeds where he could see them. Once he reached the front, he watered the gerberas.  They took a little more water than the other plants, so Cas was looking around the rest of the garden.

He hoped Dean wasn't upset with him.  Their day had been so lovely, and they had finally confessed their love for each other.  With only another month before Cas' birthday, he was starting to worry Dean didn't want him, that his confession was brought on by lust.

As these thoughts filled his head, tears pricked his eyes.  After all, they'd done to be together, Cas couldn't believe that Dean didn't want him.

But the gerberas were drowning, so Cas pulled the watering can away and nearly flicked water over a bee that had landed on a nearby bloom. The bee buzzed off into the open air of the garden next to the house. He wiped his eyes, abandoned his watering can and went over to tree just off from the side of the house.  He stepped under the shade. It wasn’t an overly hot day, but the blocked sun and sudden cool air was refreshing. 

He pressed his back against the trunk and lowered himself down so he was sat on the cold ground.  He looked around him, watching some of the other boys work on their chores.  They seemed to get along so well with each other, while Castiel—not matter how many games he played, still felt like an outcast. 

Castiel sighed and threw back his head, looking up at the tree, the branches and green leaves that hung over his head.  There was a bird perched on one of the branches not too high up and staring down at Castiel, almost judgingly.

“You understand, don’t you?” Castiel said out loud and almost laughed as the bird twitched his head to the side, almost like it really did understand. 

Castiel scoffed, feeling even more pathetic at the thought of talking to a bird.  _Yeah,_ he wasn’t crazy.  Castiel shook his head and dropped it down, looking back at the grass.

*****

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Sammy.  Hell! I didn't even want to talk about it at all.  Why can you all just leave me alone?"  Dean slammed his hand hard against the workbench and turn sharply towards his brother.

 "Because if we did you'd keep everything bottled up,” Sam answered simply, refusing to take his eyes off his brother.  “That’s not healthy, Dean.  You opened this home to give kids a home like we never had.  Why is that so hard to remember?"  Sam took a careful step towards Dean. 

"Why is it so hard to just accept that I just don't want to?" Dean rebuked while glaring at the taller man.

"You used to love what you did.  You loved how the boys looked up to you.  How they reacted when they finally felt accepted.  But now—now you are acting like it's a chore to take care if these boys."  Sam remained silent for a moment, letting his words sink in.  Dean's face remained impassive, but judging by his body language, Sam knew they had hit him.

Sam sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand through his hair.  "Daniel and Nigel came up to me today," Sam said, walking closer to his brother. "They asked me of everything was alright with you.  They've noticed a change in you Dean.  Everyone can see it."

Nigel and Daniel were their youngest additions to the home, at just twelve and fourteen.  A pang of guilt spread through Dean at the thought that he was worrying the boys.  "Just-just please consider that." Dean just nodded, not entirely sure about what to say.  Sam just nodded as well and then left the shed.

*****

Cas stayed under the tree for about half an hour before Kevin's car pulled into the drive.  He got out and dragged his duffel bag with him.  When he spotted Cas, he went to the teen.  "You okay?" he asked, placing a hand on the cow's neck.

"I'm fine," was Castiel's gruff reply.  He went back to running his fingers through the grass, letting his fingers brush against the cool ground.

"Well, have you done your chores?"

"Yes.”

Kevin nodded and stopped to kneel in front of Cas.  "You know, if you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm around," he said quietly, not expecting a reply.  "Just take care of yourself, all right?" When Cas didn't so much as nod, Kevin got to his feet, patted Cas' shoulder, then headed up into the house. The boy was strange, but he was never solemn, and Kevin was worried.

Castiel sighed and got up from the ground, taking a handful of grass  and letting it blow out his hand, before heading up to the house.

Inside, Benny was mopping the floors and Castiel offered to help.  When he refused, Castiel headed up to their room and took his book out onto the roof.  There, he could be alone.

Cas woke up slumped against the side of the house, book face down on his belly.  "Shit," he muttered. Falling asleep while reading was one thing, but falling asleep on the roof?  That was asking for something trouble to happen.

He scrambled to the ledge, climbing back inside just as the bedroom door opened.  It was Luke.  "Hey, Kevin's looking for you," he said, glancing at the window and the book in Cas' hands.  Castiel thanked him hurriedly and went down to the kitchen, book in hand, where Kevin was pulling vegetables from the fridge.

"Hey Cas," he greeted warmly.  "Want to learn a new recipe?"  Castiel nodded, putting his book down on the table and joining Kevin at the bench.

They spent the next few hours preparing food for dinner.  They took a lunch break, making sandwiches for the boys and themselves, but there was a lot to prepare for dinner.  

Kevin showed Castiel how to make stuffing for the chicken and they cut up potatoes and other vegetables to roast with the bird. Cas' mind was occupied for now, and he was grateful to keep busy. He really wanted to talk to Dean, but he knew they would get their time together when Dean was ready.

*****

Dean grew tired of being in the late July sun and decided to hide out in his room.  He knew that was childish, the kitchen and living room offered too many opportunities to be around the boys.

 However, his room wasn't any better.  He couldn't look at the bed without thinking about the many nights he had shared with Castiel.

Dean felt his cock twitch at the thought of Castiel bent over his dresser while he fucked into the teenager as everyone else was outside setting up the fireworks for the fourth of July.  Dean groaned, frustrated and quickly left his room.  He hurried down the stairs, not caring if it was almost stomping.

A sweet smell filled the air and Dean knew Kevin had started to cook dinner.  He decided the younger man would be his best option for a distraction, but something stopped him from moving towards the kitchen.  A familiar deep voice filled the air and rooted Dean to his spot at the bottom of the stairs. Castiel was helping Kevin...again.

"Shit," Dean growled quietly and quickly moved towards the kitchen.  But he didn't stop talk to the kitchen' two occupants. Instead, Dean threw open the basement and ran down the stairs

The sound of stomping feet drew Cas' attention to Dean striding through the room.  He felt a swell of almost happiness that Dean was finally coming to talk to him. His heart sank as Dean breezed past them and down into the basement, slamming the door.

He glanced over at Kevin, who just shrugged and shook his head.  "Sh-should someone talk to him?" C as ventured, the closest to asking permission, as he was game to get.

"Nah," Kevin answered.  "Unless you want your head bitten off, I wouldn't go down there."

Castiel nodded and they finished preparing dinner.  It's taken them all afternoon, but everything was finally ready.  All that needed doing was putting it in the oven.

Once dinner was cooking, Cas headed into the living room where some of the boys were watching a movie.  He sat and joined them, checking the wall clock to make sure dinner wouldn't burn.

****

If it weren’t for Sam's words haunting him, Dean would have been perfectly content staying down in the basement for the rest of the night.  Of course, though, he never could have his way and sudden the voice of Daniel was floating down the stairs. Damn bitch.  Dean knew Sam sent him on purpose to guilt him.

He pushed away from the workbench and grudgingly headed upstairs.  He would have been perfectly content staying down and skipping dinner, but again Sam's words rang loudly in his head.  He didn't want to give the boys any more reason to worry; this was a place for them to call home, to not to worry about their unstable caregiver. 

He thought about Castiel and his heart clenched at the thought of how he wasn't doing it for him.  Actually, he would have been happy to avoid the teen for a little longer.  He knew Castiel wanted to talk and that was something he was not ready to do

Cas thought he would be thankful that Dean had come out of hiding.  Instead, his heart clenched up and his fingers gripped his cutlery too tight.  Dean was in a crappy mood, and Cas was taking the brunt of it.

Dean didn't so much as glance at Cas as he sat at the table.  He stared down at his food, an accusatory expression plaguing his features, and didn't talk the whole way through dinner.

Thankfully, it was Luke's turn to wash up tonight, so Castiel caught Dean on his way back down into the basement.  He was just mad now, nowhere near accommodating or understanding.

"We need to talk," he hissed at Dean, brows furrowed and fists curled.  He could feel a lump in his throat and he prayed to whatever god may or may not exist that his voice wouldn't tremble and break.  

Dean narrowed his eyes a Castiel, but visibly softened when he saw the worry behind the angry eyes.  God, he was being a dick.   Dean sighed and turned towards the stairs.  He left the door opening, hinting his intentions.

"Close the door," He instructed simply.  The sounded echoed around them and as soon as they were at the bottom, Dean flicked on the light switch.

Castiel had never been in the basement.  It practically loomed around him and the boy was slightly taken aback.  The room was made of iron walls and vents, rusty tools hanging on the walls and—wait, were they guns? C as shivered, remembering the last time he'd seen a gun.  But he pushed the memory to the back of his mind, wide, frightened eyes rounding on Dean.  He needed to focus.  

"Dean, he said, and his voice was lighter than he expected.  "Please, tell me what's going on."  He intended to get mad, but the words that fell from his mouth were a far cry from the rage he'd felt only moments ago.  His voice was soft and echo-y in the dim room; he sounded like a wounded child.  This was not how he wanted this to go.    

"There's nothing to talk about, Cas."  Dean turned his back to his lover and picked up an old rifle that he knew wasn't loaded.  He started cleaning it, keeping his hands busy so he was tempted to shove Castiel to the nearest wall and fuck him.  Though he knew no one upstairs would hear, this place was exactly the safest for rough sex.

"I don't know what you think is wrong, Cas, but everything is fine with me."  Dean chanced a look at Castiel and immediately regretted it.  The boy looked taken aback and slightly hurt.   _God_ , he really was a dick, going a hurting the boy he loved.

Cas' stomach dropped when Dean's hands found the rifle.  He barely registered Dean's words as he backed against a wall, breathing deeply and trying to look anywhere but at the gun.  

"Dean, I'm not stupid."  His voice cracked, façade of fierceness shattered with the words.  He continued anyway.  "You've been acting off all week.  And yesterday... I-I thought yesterday was a g-good day, but... " he trailed off, unable to tear his thoughts away from that night.  He clenched his eyes shut, trying to block the images of bloodied limbs and sick grins.  All it did was amplify them.  He peeled his eyes wide again, dissipating the haunting images.

 "Cas," he groaned out and ran a hand through his hair in frustrating.  "Damn it," he mumbled and stalk towards the boy.   Grabbed Castiel face roughly and brought his lips to his.

Cas as Dean strode up to him, gun still held loosely in his hand. He let Dean press their lips together, even kissed back as much as he could, but he froze when Dean stayed in his personal space.  

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean mumbled, pressing his forehead to the boy's.  It was all he could say.  He wasn't someone who opened his heart up and confessed all his feelings.  He was still no close to admiring what was wrong, but he hopes Castiel would just take it.

"Dean, I can't stay down here, please, need to leave," the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, squeaking on their way out.  "Please, Dean, I can't be around g-guns. I forgive you, oh god, please just let me out."  

Dean pulled back sharply, shocked by Castiel's outburst. " Cas?" he asked, looking worried at the boy. Had he done something wrong?   Castiel never acted like this before.  "What's wrong?"

Cas was gasping now, pulling in gulps of air like there was no tomorrow. "I can't b-be around guns, Dean," he stammered, no trying to push Dean back, wary of the rifle still in his hand. "Please," he sobbed. "I c-can't - I'll tell you, but p-please, get me out of here."

"It's okay; we'll go upstairs." Dean let Castiel go up first and then he followed after, not wanting to leave the boy alone. He led him over to the kitchen table. "Sit down," he ordered, gesturing to one of the seats. 

"Want to tell me what that was about?" Dean squatted in front of Castiel, taking the boy's hand in his. He rubbed light circles of the teen's knuckles with his thumb. 

Cas calmed visibly, his hyperventilating stopped and his trembling reduced. He took in a deep breath and looked straight into Dean's eyes. “Sorry,” Cas” mumbled and turned away, and placed his hands on the counter, leaning into it.  “Those guns just brought back unwanted memories,” Castiel sighed, clenching his eyes to ride the flashback from his mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean offered.  He walked up to Castiel and placed his hands on his waist.  “I’ll listen,” Dean promised, whispering into Castiel’s ear.

He felt Castiel shiver and pull back slightly.  He turned back to face Dean, a sad look placed on his face.  “You’ll hate me,” Castiel mumbled and pulled away from Dean completely.

“I won’t, Cas” Dean spoke quietly.  “I doubt there is anything you can say that will shock me.”  Dean sighed and followed Castiel.  “I’ve heard some pretty bad stuff, Cas.  I’m sure I can handle yours.”

Dean placed a hand on the small of Castiel’s back and led him over to the kitchen table.  He eased the boy into one of the chairs and crouched down in front of him.

Castiel shook his head and refused to look at Dean.  “I should be in jail—not here,” Castiel admitted, chancing a look at Dean.  He noticed the man staring at him questioningly and Castiel groaned in frustration and threw his head back.

 "Last year," he started, voice low.  "I was in a street gang." He paused, ironing out details in his mind and giving Dean time to process what he was going to say.  "We were... well, we were a menace to society.  It started out as stealing and taking drugs, but it quickly led to ... stealing drugs."  Castiel Paused again, he breathed deliberately, forcing the air out between his teeth.  

He dropped his head, but still refused to look at Dean; he didn’t want to see the look on the man face when he realized exactly what Castiel was.

"We uhh... we stole,” Castiel continued, “A lot from this one main guy, who turned out to be a mob boss.  He was pissed—wanted money.  And by that time, we had grown to around thirty people, all stealing and getting high and beating people up.  I think I-I was mostly there to uh... I guess I was the punching bag.  But not just that, I was used for sex too.  And I thought it was a good deal at the time, because I was getting food and drugs and ... attention.”

“Anyway,” Castiel sighed, focusing on a mark on the floor, “One of the guys knew another guy who had-had access to weapons.  We all armed ourselves to the nines and ambushed this guy.  He uhh-he fought back.  He had more men.  There were..."   He gulped. "There were bodies everywhere.  Theirs.  Ours. It was a fucking battlefield."

Tears stung Cas' eyes as he told Dean his story, all the stress from bottling starting to disappear as he shared this burden with his lover.  "I ended up pinned to the floor by four or five bodies.  Some from our gang, some from the mob.  I only survived because I played dead until I knew I was alone."  

Dean had remained silent through Castiel's story and a long time after that.  He honestly didn't know what to do; what to say.  Sure, they had boys from gangs in the past, nothing like this though, usual just punks thinking they were so mug better than everyone else.

"Is-is that how you ended up here?" Dean gulped, looking down at Castiel's hand.  There were a couple of faded red scars that ran all around the length of his forearms, ones he'd never notice before.

Cas nodded slowly before hanging his head.  "They found me after someone made an anonymous call.  I remembered a man lifting me up before I blacked out.  I woke up in a hospital a couple of days later.  I was shot,” Castiel added, the piece of information sounding out of place. 

Dean inhaled sharply and Castiel smirked humorlessly before continuing.

 “Right here,” Castiel lightly touched his left shoulder.  The marks Dean had seen their first week together suddenly make sense.  “I still have the bullets.”

There was another pause; Dean refused to speak until Castiel was finished. 

“I asked the guy who brought me here not to tell anyone the real reason," Castiel whispered.  "I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me.  I just wanted to move on.  I think he did it because he didn’t want to scare you away from my case," Castiel laughed, again his tone was humorlessly.

Dean just nodded.  His mind searched for the right words to say, what would be appropriate to comfort the crying teenager, but nothing came to mind.  Castiel had the worst background out of anyone they've ever taken in.

"You're safe now, Cas.  Nothing is going to harm you here."  Dean pulled Castiel into a tight hug.  He wanted to take the boy's pain away, for him feel whole.

*****

It was a week since Cas had told Dean the truth about his past.  The pair had been sneaking off to the shed to hook up, but they hadn't had sex in a while now.  It was just too risky.  Dean had promised that once an opportunity presented itself, he would fuck Cas like his life depended on it.  Cas had laughed at the man, but he was secretly turned on by the thought of unexpected sex.  

Castiel seemed fine, but Dean was pissed.  He hated that he hasn’t had been in over a week now.  Sam had finally gotten off his back about everything, but it was still too risky to sneak around the house.  They almost got the chance a couple of nights ago, but Nigel had almost caught them when he came to Dean late at night because his window wouldn't open.

Dean couldn't look at Castiel anyone without thinking about pushing the boy against the closest surface and fucking him senseless.  It had been the longest they ever went without sex and if Dean was being honest, he missed it; he craved the feel if Castiel's skin against his.

After Castiel's confession, Dean tried to be there for the boy more, but he found it hard sometimes, especially when he was reminded of whom he was to Cas in the eyes of everyone else: his guardian.  Dean was doing a good job at hind his conflicting; Castiel didn't seem to suspect anything different.

"Dean?" Sam's voice called out, cutting into Dean's thoughts. "What do you want, Sammy?" His brother had just walked into the house, holding a piece of paper.  

"I need a favour from you."  

Dean gave his brother a look; normally a favour for Sam meant a long day of pointless bullshit.  "Depends what it is," Dean said, refusing to commit to anything before he knew exactly what he's be saying 'yes' to.

"It's just a few groceries, medicine for Luke and I also need you to drive to Pamela's and get those books I leant her last month.

"Pamela?" Dean moaned, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling. "That's over an hour's drive. Forget it.  I'll do everything else, but that."

Sam sighed in annoyance and stepped closer to Dean.  "You will, because I have I stay here and watch over everyone.  Take Cas," Sam suggested, shocking Dean.  “He hasn't been out since you two went to get those groceries a couple of weeks ago.

"Fine," Dean grumbled, tying to act pissed, but if Castiel was allowed to come, Dean would do almost anything.  Sam left stratified that he got Dean to actual do him the favour.  He thought he would have a harder time and was surprised how easily he agreed.

*****

When Dean told him they'd be spending the day together running errands, Cas was ecstatic.  He knew what "running errands" meant.  They were finally going to get a chance to be together.  No interruptions. Cas could feel himself stiffening already.

They piled into the car, switching the radio on a low level, holding hands like giddy school girls.  Cas loved it.  He sat close to Dean, nuzzling into his shoulder every once in a while.  They went to Pamela's first, as they needed to keep the groceries cold.

As much as Dean wanted to hate the hour long car ride, it was much more enjoyable with Castiel next to him.  They were holding hands, the sound of AC/DC playing quietly in the background.  About a half hour into the drive, Dean pulled his hand from Castiel.  

The teen made a noise in protest, but the noise turned into a squeak when Dean placed his hand on his thigh.

Cas gasped, the feeling of Dean's strong hand rubbing into his thigh the only thing that mattered at that moment.  He glanced at Dean almost expectantly.  Did he just want to switch up the holding hands, or was he as turned on as Cas?

Dean's thumb rubbed light circles, dangerously inched close to the teenager's cock.  He knew what the boy wanted, judging by his sharp inhale and it was exactly what he wanted as well.  He focused his eyes on the road, not giving a single hint that he knew what he was doing.  He wanted to tease Castiel further, to see how far the boy could last.

Cas stared at the side of Dean's face.  It was schooled into a blank expression, focused on the road ahead.  

Cas whined at the feel of strong fingers massaging closer to his already half hard member.  He shifted in the leather seat, trying to move Dean's hand to sit on his cock.  Dean just moved his hand back, away from the boy's zipper.  Cas moaned in annoyance, but now he knew how to play this game.  Stay still and he'll be rewarded.  Impatience would grant him nothing.

Dean smirked when he heard Castiel's whine.  The teen quickly caught on that it was Dean who was in control and only he who could give Castiel what he wanted.  

When Dean felt Castiel still, he moved his hand back up his thigh. He didn't stop where was before, he placed his hand over the boy's cock, feeling it harden further underneath his touch.

Cas groaned and let his head drop back on the leather upholstery.  Dean was finally touching him.  He wanted so badly to buck up into the man's hand, but knew that he would only be going backwards.  So the boy stayed as still as he could, breathing deeply and letting out soft moans on the exhale.  He clutched at the seat beneath him, knuckles white as he tried to stay still.

"So good," he praised, watching Castiel out of the side of his eye.  He could see pleasure and frustration in Castiel's face.  When Dean presses his palm roughly against his aching cock, Castiel clenched his eyes shut and threw back his head.  His jaw and hands clenched tightly as well.

Dean's teasing tone did wonders for Cas' libido. The teen wanted nothing more than to climb into Dean's lap and ride him until he was raw.  But he stayed still, whining at Dean's praise.

"Fuck," Dean cursed when he say Castiel bite down on his lip.  He quickly pulled the Impala to the side of the road.  He put the car in park and reached over, grabbing the sides of Castiel’s face and sealing their lips together.

"It's been too long. I need you."  The kiss was deep and needy.

Cas hummed into the kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of Dean's lips.  Once he'd gained access, he licked into the man's mouth, arms curling around his shoulders and legs parting slightly.  

He pulled back, the sound of their lips smacking filling the car.  "Dean, I want you in me," he huffed out with a whine. "Need you close, so close."

"Fuck, Cas," Dean moaned and pulled Castiel into his lap. "It's been too long, baby.  I need you too," Dean whispered gruffly in the teen's ear.  He moved his mouth to Castiel's, sucking lightly on his pulse point.

Cas shivered at the suction placed on his throat, whimpering as strong hands gripped his sides possessively. He brought his own hands up and curled them into Dean's over shirt, tugging at the plaid cotton and shoving it down the man's arms.

Dean removed his hands from Castiel's hips, pulling his shirt off.  Dean's hands immediately went back to Castiel's hips, pulling his down so there cocks brushed against each other.  The man hissed at the sensation and started nipping at the boy's jaw.  

His hands pulled at the hem of Castiel's t-shirt.  The boy had surprised him and was wearing an old band shirt of his, which turned Dean on a little more.  Luckily Sam was out of the house or he would have recognized it.

Cas, impatient and rock hard, tugged his shirt off and discarded it on the seat next to them.  He bucked forward at the feeling of their cocks brushing together and pressed his forehead to Dean's.  "Missed this so much," he murmured, breathe ghosting over Dean's lips.  "Missed you."

"God, Cas."   Dean latched onto Castiel's throat, just above his collar bone, and started to suck a mark there.  Dean moved his one hand from Castiel's hips and to the button of his pants.  He quickly unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down, giving Dean better access to his desire.

Cas groaned at the feel of hot lips sucking purple marks into his skin and Dean's big hand pulling at his jeans.  Cas' cock bobbed against his boxers, straining against the fabric.  

"Dean, please," he whispered. "Please, fuck me. I need it."  He thrust his hips forward and back, creating a raw fiction against Dean's cock with his ass.  With each movement, the tip of his dick poked into Dean's stomach, staining Cas' underwear with pre-come.  

Dean wrapped his hand around the boy's cock, running his thumb over the tip.  "God, you're beautiful." Dean started pumping, sliding his hand up and down the length, keeping his grip tight.  He decided to reward Castiel for obeying his orders earlier and not tease the boy further.

Cas blushed at Dean's praise, cooing at the pressure created around his dick.  "Oh, Dean!" he cried out, not having to worry about keeping quiet as there was no one around to notice.  

"Dean, god, please."  He dropped his face to the crook between Dean's neck and shoulder, breathing heavily and watching his cock disappear and reappear in Dean's fist.  His pre-come created a slick way for Cas to pump quickly into Dean's hand.  "C'mon, Dean, please."

"Lift," Dean ordered and helped the Castiel strip his pants, which was a little difficult due to the tight space.  After a little struggle, Castiel's pants were on the floor.

The sound of a car in the distance made Dean a little too aware of where they were exactly—how exposed they were.  But he also remembered he had had enough sense to pull them off onto a dirt road that most likely rarely saw traffic. 

Now Cas was naked and straddling Dean's thighs, trembling from arousal.  He pressed his hot, wet mouth to the soft skin behind Dean's ear and sucked and licked gently.  It wasn't enough to leave a mark, so Cas dug his nails into Dean's waist, leaving half-moon imprints there.

Dean moaned at the pressure Castiel was applying to his waist.  Dean shifted them so they were sat in the middle seat, without the restriction of the steering wheel. 

He pushed forward, reaching into the glove compartment, and pulled out the bottle of lube that he put there weeks ago.  Dean popped open the cap and squeezed an ample amount on his fingers.  He slicked up his fingers and reached behind his lover.  He kissed him quickly before pressing one finger against Castiel's hole and circled around the entrance.

Cas brought his hands up to cup Dean's neck when they kissed, and then he gasped at the feel of cold, slick fingers circling his rim.  "Dean," he whispered, hands shaking against Dean's neck and knees aching where they were pressed into the leather.

The man just smirked against the boy's lips, still circling his hole.  Castiel began to push down on Dean's finger, begging for more.  Dean just kissed below the teen's ear and complied.  He slowly eased the digit in, feeling Castiel stiffen for a moment, but then relaxed into the touch.

Cas moaned as he sank down onto Dean's finger, clenching minutely and then relaxing again.  He dropped his head to Dean's shoulder and wrapped a hand around his own cock.  He'd forgotten how good it felt to be this close to Dean.

"Shit, Cas," Dean growled out when the boy rocked against his finger, brushing his jean clad dick as he pumped his own.  Dean was now painfully hard and straining against the rough material of his jeans.  Each time Castiel's hand moved it would brush against his own cock, sending waves of pleasure through him.

Dean slowly slipped another finger in when Castiel raised himself.  The boy moaned loudly and rocked harder against his fingers.  Dean started scissor his fingers, spreading Castiel's wider.  He brushed against the teen's prostate one which almost sent the boy forward.

When Dean parted his fingers inside the boy, Cas moaned loudly.  "Please, Dean," he gasped.  "I'm ready, c'mon, please."  He slowed the hand on his cock, wanting this to last.  Instead, he moved it to Dean's jeans and unbuttoned them.  He slipped his hand inside the man's boxers and caressed over his hard member.  The skin was smooth and Cas' fingers brushed into the pubic hair.

"Dean, need you in me. Please," Castiel begged.

"Not ready," Dean whispered as he pushed in a third finger.  He was worried Castiel wasn't prepared enough.  Usually they spent more time with teasing each other, but Castiel had already been so wound up, he didn't have the patience.

Cas whined in frustration and pleasure as Dean pushed in finger number three.  He bucked his hips impatiently and squeezed Dean's cock.  "M-more, please Dean, I can take it.  Promise I'm good."

Dean was reluctant, but he nodded.  He shifted Castiel so he was raised on his knees.  After some carefully maneuvering, Dean was able to discard his jeans and boxers, leaving him fully exposed.  He grabbed the bottle of lube again and poured some into his hand.  He rubbed his hand along his length, slicking himself up.  He moaned out at the sensation of the cool substance against his heated flesh.

After he was done he pulled Castiel back down, aligning his cock with Castiel's entrance.  He slowly pulled the boy down farther onto his lap, until the boy was sink down his length, painfully slow.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean cried out, throwing his head back in pleasure.  Cas was tight and gripped Dean like a vice.  The man had to struggle not to just pull the boy down and sheath himself in one, quick thrust.

Cas clutched at Dean's shoulders as he slowly pushed up into him.  The friction was a lot more prominent from not being as prepped as usual, and a hot burn shot itself through Castiel.  The boy cried out, but the pain gave way quickly to pleasure and soon he was moaning, egging Dean on, begging him to push in deeper.

"Dean!" He all but yelled the man's name, fingers gripping marks into Dean's shoulders.  “Dean, please! Please, deeper.  I promise I'm okay.  Please, harder.”  It was the most vocal he had ever been and he was slightly embarrassed.  A flush reddened his cheeks and he leant forward to hide his face in Dean's neck. 

Dean gave Castiel a minute to adjust, until the teen started begging him for more.  Dean gripped the dark-haired boy's hips and started lifting him up and the pulled him down roughly.

Dean was fucking Cas for all he was worth.  The boy practically bounced on Dean's dick, grunting as the man slammed into him.  The angle was just right, hitting his prostate with every stroke, and he was speechless.  He curled a hand around his cock and started pumping erratically, stuttered hand movements over his cockhead.  The slick of his pre-come made sure his hand slipped easily over the shaft. 

"Jesus!  Fuck, Cas!" Dean cried when he felt how tight Castiel was, sliding down his cock.  They continued the brutal pace, each of them desperate for this release, but wanted it to last.  Each male was sweaty, drops running down their face and chest.

Dean couldn't help but admire Castiel's glistening chest as the boy was lifted higher and then down. "Fuck, Cas. So good." Castiel then grinned his hips into Dean's and the man tightened his grip.

"D-Dean, I w-wanna come, but I wa-want to k-keep going," the boy managed to huff out against Dean's shoulder.  He was helping Dean, lifting himself up with his knees while Dean pulled him up by his waist, then slamming down onto the man's cock.  Every thrust sent lightning strikes of pleasure through his whole body.  He didn't think he'd ever been fucked this raw.

"Ride me, Cas," Dean panted out as he trailed his lips down Castiel's chest, licking the sweat.   He sucked the skin above the teen's pecks, creating a dark, red mark.   "Fuck yourself on my cock," Dean groaned when Castiel slammed himself down on his cock.

Cas groaned at the sound of Dean's voice, fucked out and rough.  He rocked his hips as fast and hard as he could, trying to keep the angle perfect.  He whined and sobbed, bracing himself with both hands on Dean's shoulders.  The feel of the man's hard length pounding into him and the suction at his chest made his cock throb.

He ached with the need for touch. "Dean, touch me," he begged, voice high and strained.  "Please.  Need to come.  Need to." 

The man complied and wrapped his hand around the boy's leaking cock.  He pumped it hard and fast, staying in time with his thrust.  He was getting dangerously close to the edge.  He could feel the familiar tug in his stomach build up.

Cas' stomach filled with a familiar weight when Dean finally touched him.  The heavy coil of desire muted his surroundings and there was only him and Dean.  Just Castiel’s hands on Dean's shoulders, Dean's cock inside him and the thrum of pleasure that drum-rolled through him.  He didn't even have the words to tell Dean he was coming.  He just spilled into the man's hand and writhed on top of him, out of time with the precision thrusts.

Castiel coming was all Dean needed before he let his own orgasm was over.  "Shit!  Cas!   Fuck," he cried out brokenly.  He gave a few more sharp thrusts and came deep inside Castiel.

He dropped back against the leather seat, sweaty and panting hard.  He felt a weight against his chest and Castiel's hair tickle the side of his face as the teen nuzzled his face in the side of Dean's neck, trying to calm his breathing as well. 

Cas nosed at Dean's jaw, trembling hands smoothing over the man's chest.  He pressed kisses to Dean's neck and muttered "I love you" into the skin that covered his throat.  It was some of the best sex they had ever had.  It was going to be a while before Cas could form a sentence that wasn't proclaiming his love for Dean.

Sleepy warmth spread through his chest and he dropped his face to Dean's clavicle.  "Want to stay like this," he murmured.  Dean's cock was softening inside him and his own come was drying on their stomachs.  But Cas was warm and safe with Dean, and he didn't want to move.  

Dean responded by tightening his arms around his...boyfriend?  They never official decided in what they were.  And was he even allowed to have a boyfriend at this age?  However, regardless of their title, Dean was content and happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s embrace for a little bit longer.  He knew they shouldn't; they had things to do.  And he should get cleaned up.

When Cas felt his eyelids drooping, he decided it was time to part.  He sat up slowly in Dean's lap and leaned forward to press a slow, chaste kiss on the man's lips.  He hummed happily, warm and buzzing, before gently sliding off Dean's lap, his softened cock slipping from him with a quiet slick sound.

Cas pulled his clothes to him and started putting them back on slowly.  That was when a pang of remorse hit him.  He wished he didn't have to disentangle himself from Dean so soon, but they were on schedule and still technically sneaking around.  Even with this justification, Cas felt guilty.  He wanted to hold onto Dean forever.

Dean pulled his clothing on, using his t-shirt to clean himself and Castiel off.  He threw the shirt in the back and pulled on his plaid shirt and pants with a little effort because of the tight space.  

Once both males were dressed and decent, Dean placed a lingering kiss to Castiel's lips before sliding back to the driver's seat.  He started the car and pulled back onto the road.

*****

Cas stared out the window for the rest of the trip, head pressed to the glass and hands folded in his lap. He wasn't avoiding Dean, just enjoying his surroundings.

The open planes of grass were beautiful in the sun.  So many different shades of green flew by him, but none of them compared to the green of his lover's eyes.

This thought was the one that pulled him back to reality.  He looked over at Dean, his intense focus on the road making his brows furrow slightly.  Cas shifted closer to the man and placed a comforting hand on his thigh.

Dean was lost in his own thoughts.  He worried if Pamela would suspect anything, she was always weirdly good at reading people.  What would she say if she did know; would she tell Sam?  Or would she just say nothing?  Dean's mind began to run ramped when he felt a light weight against his thigh.  He looked down and saw Castiel's hand gently rub against his leg.  Dean smiled softly and took the teens hand in his.

Cas blushed at Dean's smile, happy that he had been the one to put it there.  He'd worried for a split second that Dean had been upset, but he appeared to be fine, so Castiel just laced their fingers together and stared out at the road ahead of them.

It was a metaphor, or so Cas thought. The open road stretched ahead of them, filled with bumps they wouldn't anticipate, but would have to deal with. It was much like their relationship. Castiel didn't share this information with Dean, however.  He just stared out at the road with a knowing smile on his lips.

When they finally pulled up in front of the brown house, Dean was both released and irritated.  "Do you want to stay in here?" Dean asked, looking over at Castiel.  He really didn't care if he came in or not, but he figured Pamela wouldn't suspect anything between them if the teen wasn't there. A lso, it would give him an excuse to leave right away.

Castiel nodded. "It'll be quicker," was his reply.  Cas wanted to get back on the open road again, holding Dean's hand and basking in the warmth of the sun.

"Right." Dean nodded his head and climbed out of the car and walked up the front porch.  The door was open so Dean just let himself in.

"Pamela?" Dean called when he saw no sign of the woman.  "Right here," a voice called from the living room of to the side.  A brunette woman walked over to Dean, giving him a quick slap to his ass.

"Really, Pamela?" Dean huffed loudly.  The woman just chuckled and walked into the living room.  "Still just as firm as I remembered.  Giving Sam a run for his money."  She looked over her shoulder and winked at the young man.

Dean just rolled his eyes and stayed at the entrance way.  "I just need Sam's books.  I'm in a bit of a rush."

 "I get it," Pamela said, holding up her hands in mock defence.  "You want to get back to your boyfriend."

Dean immediately blanched and stared gapingly at the woman.  "No, th-that's not it," the shocked man tried to defend.  

"Come on, Dean.  Don't lie to me.  You had this grin on your face when you got out of the car and I saw the way that boy looked at you.  The only time you ever smile like that is around Sam and I highly doubt right now he is the reason for that stupid smile that was just on your face."

"I can't hide anything from you," Dean grumbled and pushed a hand roughly through his hair.  

"No, you can't," Pamela agreed and crossed her arms across her chest.

"I assume Sam doesn't know or you wouldn't be acting so defensive about the boy.  He's the new one, isn't he?  The one Sam was telling me about."

Dean just looked down at his feet, refusing to meet the woman's eyes.  Damn, now he remembered why he hated going over to Pamela’s.  

"Hey, I'm not judging."  Pamela walked up to Dean and placed and hand lightly on his bicep.  "I trust you'll do the right thing—that it's not wrong.  But Dean," Pamela sighed and gently guided Dean to face her, "Please be careful."  Pamela’s face was soft and free of judgment.

Dean nodded, "I'll try. You know I always fuck things off."

Pamela just looked at Dean and turned back to a table.  She picked up a stack of books and handed them to Dean.  

"Tell Sam 'thanks,'" she said, changing the subject, sensing Dean didn't want to talk anymore.

"Will do."  Dean took the books and gave Pamela an awkward hug good-bye. "See ya," Dean waved and left the house.

When Dean came back to the car, he looked perplexed at best.  "Are you all right?" Cas asked as the older man climbed into the front seat.  He immediately brought a hand up to the man's shoulder, rubbing a soothing pattern into the muscle.

"I'm fine," Dean said, turning the keys in the ignition and started up the car.  He wasn't trying to be short with the boy, but he didn't want to stay any longer at the house than what was necessary.

Once they were back on the road Dean took Castiel's hand again.

Cas didn't stop worrying when Dean took his hand.  Actually, the grip was tighter than usual, so he worried more.  He didn't say anything, however, because he knew Dean wouldn't take it well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I was updating my two stories and ended up updating the chapters to the wrong story.

The ride back to Lawrence was uneventful, unlike the ride there. Castiel and Dean made small talk, but really they were just enjoying each other's company. Dean was fighting with himself, try to argue the fact that it was okay that someone—Pamela knew about them, even though that had been so careful, so cautious with their sneaking around. It was unnerving that the woman was able to read that from Dean so easily.

It was early evening when Dean pulled into the grocery store parking lot.  "Are you coming in?" Dean asked.  The boy had been silent for the past twenty minutes and it was starting to worry Dean. This silence was different—it wasn't comfortable, it was heavy like a weight sat on it.

Cas was lost in his own thoughts and didn't seem to notice they were at the store.  He was thinking about Dean and how he'd been perplexed since leaving Pamela's.  

He only looked up when Dean asked him a question.   "Hm? Oh, yeah, sure," he stammered, clambering out of the car.  Dean would need help with the groceries anyway.

The shopping was a lot different than the one before.  They weren't holding hands—in fact, Castiel kept a few inches between them.

"Is everything all right, Cas?" Dean asked as he picked up a loaf of bread.  Castiel still seemed too stuck in his own thoughts and was just moving in autopilot.

Cas glanced up at Dean, not sure whether to broach the subject or not.  He decided it was best to just come out and say it.  "I'm worried about you," he admitted.  "You've been moody ever since Pamela's.  Is everything alright with you, Dean?"  He regretted his tone as soon as the words left his mouth.  He sounded accusatory, and he knew how Dean responded to accusations.  

Dean stopped them in front of the dairy and grabbed a few bags of milk.  The accusation didn't go unnoticed by Dean.  He knew he was being quiet, but I'm his defence, Castiel was being just a quiet.  He had to struggle with himself to not snap at the teen and cause more problems.

 I'm fine, Cas."  If his lie sounded as pathetic as it did to his own ears, he knew Castiel wouldn't believe it.   "It's been a long day and I am exhausted." He handed Castiel a bag of milk to carry and then lead them to another aisle.  "It's really not a big deal."

Cas hurried to keep up with Dean, clutching the items with cold hands.  "It's a big deal if it involves me," he hissed at the man when he caught up.  "I'm part of it, aren't I, Dean?"  He couldn't keep the worry from his voice if he tried.  "God, Dean, I just want us to be happy.  Want you to be happy."

Dean turned to face the boy.  He wanted to be mad, to yell that of course, he was a part of it.  Didn't Castiel get that?   Why else would he had been sneaking around his brother's back, the brother whom he told everything to.  "Why would you even think that, Cas?"  Dean shifted the items in his hands so he had a free one. He ran it through the dark hair, feeling the softness under his touch.  "You have been a part of it for a long time now," Dean confessed honestly.

Frustrated tears pricked Cas' eyes as they bickered.  He thought Dean was mad at him.  And now he's turned around and given him softness?  

"Would you just pick an emotion, please?" he growled slapping Dean's hand away.  "I'm sick of taking the brunt of your mood swings, Dean."  Without waiting for an answer, he left the items on the floor and practically ran out of the store.

"Shit," Dean growled, receiving a few annoyed looks from some people nearby.  He wanted nothing more to let Castiel run off and sulk on his own, but he had to remind himself that he wasn't just Castiel boyfriend but his guardian, however, fucked up that was, Dean knew he couldn't let the boy run off alone.  Plus, Sam would probably kill him.

He placed the items back in the cooler and picked up the item, Castiel childishly, threw to the ground.  He loved Cas, he really did, but he was getting tired of the one-eighty Castiel kept pulling with him.  He knew he wasn't any better; he knew he's been moody lately, but Castiel's behaviour was starting to become tiresome.  Castiel couldn't keep getting excused because of his past.  He had a shitty past himself, but he wasn't throwing tantrums every time something didn't go his way.

Cas waited by the car for Dean, leaning on the hood with a hand over his eyes.  He was embarrassed by his outburst.  Dean was just trying to comfort him and he had fucked up—again.  He sighed shakily, trying not to cry.  Which was stupid.  Why was he always fucking crying?  Swiping at his eyes, he calmed himself and planned how to apologize to Dean.

Dean walked out into the parking lot, luckily he didn't have to go searching for the teen because he was next Impala.   However, he didn't look pissed off, almost ashamed and Dean felt both satisfaction and sympathy.  And that made guilt creep up inside him when he realized he was glad Castiel felt ashamed for his outburst.

"You can't just run off like that," Dean said, walking up to Castiel.  The boy just kept his eyes on the ground, refusing to look up.  Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead.  

"Look, Cas," Dean started off, trying to find the right words for the apology, since 'I'm sorry' was impossible for him to say.  "Back there I-I shouldn't have...that shouldn't have happened."

Cas didn't look up when he said, "I know, I'm sorry," to the older man.  "You were trying to help."  He scuffed a shoe over the bitumen, kicking small pieces of gravel away from him.

"Cas you have to stop questioning my intentions.  I understand it might be hard for you, but I'm here for you."  

Dean stepped forward, cupped Castiel's face with both of his hands and lifted his face up.  "I guess I am partly at fault here," Dean admitted since it was when he spoke that set Castiel off.

"I just-"  He gazed up at Dean, bringing his own hands up to cover Dean's.  "I love you," he told the man.  "And I don't want to fuck this up any more than I have."  He swiped at a tear that had escaped his eye and was travelling down his cheek.  

"I-I told you I'm b-bad at interactions." He chuckled sadly at the end of his sentence before pulling Dean's hands away from his face and holding them tightly in his own.  "I just w-want to help."

"If anyone is going to fuck this up, it'll be me," Dean laughed without humour.  "I'm not any better at relationships.  "This had been the only relationship where I've felt like myself."  Dean didn't know why he was confessing this in the middle of a store parking lot, but he felt like he needed Castiel to be reassured.

Cas smiled shakily up at Dean and laughed with him.  At least they could find humour in their flaws.

The boy stepped forward tentatively and wrapped his arms around Dean's middle, pressing his face into the man's chest.

Dean reciprocated the hug; tighten his arms around the teen's shoulders and burying his face in his hair.  They stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying the open feeling of being in each other's arms. 

"We should head back," Dean murmured into Castiel's hair.  The sun was just setting and he knew they had been out a lot longer than what was necessary. 

Cas nodded into Dean's chest before pulling away.  He squeezed Dean's hand reassuringly and got into the car.

The ride back was silent, but they were holding hands again.  Cas smoothed his thumb over the back of Dean's hand, soothing himself as well as the man.  

As soon as Dean pulled the car into the shed and cut the engine he leaned over and kissed Castiel. "Once more," he explained and leaned back in for another quick kiss before both males exited the car and made their way towards the house.  

It was almost dark outside, with meant most of the boys were doing their own thing before bed.  Kevin was in the kitchen cooking something, Dean wasn't entirely sure and Sam was in the kitchen with him.

Dean walked into the kitchen and notice Sam was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop, however, and appeared to be waiting.  

Sam looked up at the computer screen when he heard them enter the kitchen and gave them a questioning look.  "Where are the groceries?"  

 _Shit_ , Dean mentally slapped himself; they hadn't gone back into the store after they ran out.  "Ummm," Dean replied dumbly," we forgot them."

Sam looked less than pleased and shifted in his chair so he was facing both Cas and him.  "Really?  You were gone for about six hours and you _forgot_ the groceries?"

Dean just shrugged and walked over to the fridge.  "What did you to do then to take that long of you "forgot" the groceries?"

Cas could see Dean struggling to come up with a believable answer, so he jumped in.  "Pamela needed help moving some furniture," he lied confidently.  He hated his past, but the ease with which he could lie through his teeth was kind of a perk. 

Sam turned his attention to Castiel and cocked an eyebrow.   "Pamela asked you," he turned to Dean, "To help her?"

 Dean just shrugged, pulling a beer from the fridge and going along with Castiel's lie, even though it wasn't plausible for him. 

"Dean the last time you 'helped' Pamela, you almost broke that table of hers."  Sam folded his arms across his chest and then shook his head, chuckling lightly.  "She must have been desperate." 

"That, or she wanted to ogle his ass," Kevin piped up and turned to the two brothers in amusement. 

"Hey!" Dean spoke up, pointing a finger between the two younger men.  "In my defence, she attacked me."

  Kevin just laughed and Sam chuckled more.  "Yeah, Dean.  Grabbing someone's ass is 'attacking,' especially when you love it so much."

Cas watched the exchange between the brothers and Kevin with a look of amusement and something swelling in his chest.  Home, he realized.  He grinned stupidly at the three of them before shuffling out of the room, hopefully going unnoticed.   He didn't want to be sappy in front of all three of them.  He could handle one at a time, but confessing this felt like home to all of them at once?  Cas was brave, but not that brave.

He quickly climbed the stairs and went to his room, lying on the bed and letting happy tears wash down his face. 

None of the men noticed Castiel had slipped out of the room, too involved in their own conversation.  "Did you at least get my books?" Sam asked, once stopped laughing. 

"They're in the car," Dean replied, taking a sip of his beer.   Something caught the corner of his eye and he turned only to find an empty spot where Castiel had just been. 

"Dude, I know you didn't want to do this for me, but you could have put a little effort into remember.  What the hell did you two do that took so long?" 

"Nothing, Sammy," Dean growled and turned to walk out of the room.  "Why do you always have worry and analyze everything I do?' 

"I have to worry, Dean," Sam snapped, standing up.  Kevin just stood by the sink, looking back and forth between the brothers.    "Come on guys, don't do this n-"

"When I send you and Castiel out for a few simple tasks and you two take the whole day," Sam continued, cutting Kevin off.   "Dean, we are responsible for Cas and-"   "And I was with him," Dean finished off, even though he knew Sam wasn't going to say something entirely different.

*****

Once Dean had actually gone out to the Impala to retrieve Sam's books—mostly to get his brother off his back, Dean excused himself and went upstairs.  He paused at Castiel's door, contemplating if he should talk to the boy or not.   They had just had a get day out together, despite the minor setback at the grocery store, but he wanted to make sure he was all right.   Just as Dean raised his hand up, the sound of footsteps heading up the stairs halted Dean's hand.  He quickly dropped his hand and hurried into his room.

He went over to his bed and laid down, trying to relax a forget what Sam had said to him.  Unfortunately, his mind was too active and new thoughts invaded his mind.

 _Don't get too close_ , the words echoed loudly in Dean's head, as he remembered the conversation he had with Kevin the night Cas and he came home from Pamela's.   Kevin had come up to Dean's room that night and surprised the older man with his observation.

"You care for him, don't you?" Kevin spoke, hanging around the doorway, looking at Dean in curiosity.  Dean, who was just lying on his bed, an arm thrown over his face, grunted in response.   "Sam may be oblivious to the whole thing—or just in denial, but we both can tell that you've taken to Castiel a lot more than the other boys."  Dean visibly stiffened at Kevin's words and sat up on the bed.

"What are you implying, Kevin?" Dean spat hotly, feeling anger creep up in him at the younger man's accusations.   He felt a pang of guilt hit him when he saw the defencive look Kevin shot at him.

"I'm not implying anything, Dean.   I am only concluding from what I've observed.”  Kevin sighed and took a step towards Dean before rethinking the idea.   "You just seem to spend more time with Castiel than any of the other boys, and that's fine, but Dean..." Kevin trailed off as if trying to find the right words.

"Castiel is just a boy—that's it," Dean snapped, standing up from the bed and trurned to face Kevin.   "He's just a boy with a shitty past and I am here to help him; like we're done for all the other boys who have passed through our doors."   Dean knew his reaction was not helping him sell his case, but he was panicking, Kevin was to close to figuring out the truth and he couldn't let that happen.

"Is it because he reminds you of yourself?   Sam said something like that a while ago: that you put so much into this home, to create a home for the boys like you and Sam never had.   But Dean, just because he's reminded you of yourself, don't go and-"

"Jesus, Kevin!" Dean cut the man off.   "What are you implying?" Dean growled, feeling angry that Kevin was now accusing him, but also assuming correctly. 

"Just... don't get too close Dean.   Something bad could happen if your judgment is lapsed."   Dean wanted to laugh at the irony in Kevin's words—if only he knew the true story, how his judgment was already lapsed.   If he knew how he and Cas have been sneaking around for three months now, he wouldn't be looking at him with concern and sympathy.

Now, Dean was doing exactly that—not getting too close.  He had already done that and now that he knew Sam and even Kevin could see something was between the two of them, regardless of what they suspected, Dean didn't want to take any chances.   Cas and he were still sneaking around, but it was quick and nothing more than a quick fuck.   Dean knew he was hurting Cas—he could see it in the boy's eyes as he left him after their...session.   

Behind Dean's actions, the logic was if he could fool everyone until Castiel was eighteen, regardless if it was legal before, that Castiel was nothing more than another boy under his care than they would be in the clear.  He didn't realize though, how much he was destroying Castiel and how he was very much losing him for his own selfish reasons.

*****

It was a week later and Castiel was spending some time reading; he had two chapters left of his book and he intended to finish them tonight.   However, he kept thinking about Dean.   He was such a distracted, that it took him half an hour and a boner to get through the first two pages.   It was getting ridiculous, especially since they had more than satisfied their needs in the car.

Cas was miserable.   It was partly due to his cold, partly because Dean was pushing him away; again.  He didn't understand it.  The week before had been fine.  They'd finally spoken their true feelings, they’d had amazing sex, and they'd discussed their issues. I t was fine.

Until now.  The past week had been tense.  Sure, they'd sneaked around and done their usual thing, but Dean was becoming colder and colder after their meetings and Cas was feeling smaller and smaller.  Now, bedridden due to his cold with a stack of books borrowed from Sam, chicken soup from Kevin and absolutely nothing from Dean, Cas was officially miserable.

Cas was sick of reading.  His eyes burned from scanning so many words.  It's been a couple hours since he'd seen anyone that day, so he decided to give his eyes a break and go downstairs, see if he could find one of the boys to talk to.  Because Dean was being so harsh, Cas was feeling lonely.  And yeah, he should've bonded with the other boys months ago, but he couldn't bring himself to regret what he had started with Dean.  

Cas swung his legs over the bed, floorboards creaking, and trudged downstairs into the living room.  He found Kevin playing chess with Benny on the coffee table and sat with them to watch.  He sniffled and coughed, obviously annoying Benny, who was too polite to say something.  

With a long-suffering sigh, Cas left the living room.  He went across the hall to the kitchen, figuring he could at least make himself a cup of tea. He stopped in the doorway.  Dean was at the table, back to Cas. The boy wondered if he should just leave the room.  No, he thought.  He had as much right to be here as Dean.  He just wanted his tea, dammit.

Cas squared his shoulders and walked over to the sink, grabbing the kettle to fill. He breathed in deeply, trying to stay calm, but his breath caught in his throat and it sent him into a coughing fit. Great. 

*****

Dean was just walking into the house when he heard coughing coming from the kitchen.   Shit, Dean knew who it was, Cas had been in bed for most of the week, giving Dean a plausible excuse to avoid the boy and leave Sam to take care of him.   In return though, Dean had to take over cooking lunch and dinner.   Dean hated it, but if it meant avoiding Cas, hell he would cook a fucking banquet. 

However, now there was no excuse to avoid him.  He had to make lunch and to wait for Cas to finish would take too long.   Reluctantly, Dean took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen.   

As soon as he caught sight of Cas, a warmth and annoyance swelled inside of him.  This was the first time he saw Castiel in a couple of days, purposely leaving the house when he heard Castiel move around upstairs.  The poor boy though was hunched over, trying to catch his breath as a marathon of coughs escaped him.   Dean didn't realize he had moved until he left hand was lightly rubbing circles on Castiel's back.

He hardly heard footsteps on the tiles until it was too late.  Dean was suddenly rubbing soothing hands over his back, comforting and warm.  He'd missed this.  But he was upset, more importantly, and he shoved at Dean's hands.  

"Don't," he choked out, before reverting to coughing.   Once he'd finally quietened down, he turned away from Dean.  He filled the kettle and put it on to boil, bustling around the kitchen to gather a tea bag and a cup. He didn't look at Dean once.   

"What's wrong, Cas?" Dean asked, wanting to be confused, he knew he may have been an ass lately, but Cas never acted out about it before.   He walked over to where Castiel was standing by the stove but the boy just shuffled away as soon as he approached him.   "Damn it, Cas!  Look I know that this past week hasn't been the easiest for us, but talk to me!"

Cas slammed the cup on the bench, whirling around to glare at Dean.  "Oh, now, you want to talk," he said, voice dripping with acidity.  "You want to talk about how the past week you've been closed off? You've made me feel dejected?  You've used me and then kicked me out of your room within the space of half an hour?  You want to talk about all that, Dean?  Now that you're ready to talk about it.  Not when I was, no, but now?  Sure!"  He was breathing heavily, struggling to pull air into his lungs due to his blocked airways.  He panted, leaning against the bench.

Dean's face was masked with shock, which quickly set to anger, the anger he had no right to feel towards Cas when the boy was right about everything.   "You know what?  Fuck you, Cas!   I have been working my ass off to try to throw Sam and Kevin off their suspicion, but because every moment I have is not dedicated to you, you feel the need to act out and throw a temper tantrum.   Every damn time, too!  How about we talk about that, huh?"

Dean had never cussed at him before.  In front of him, yes, but he'd never been the subject of it.  He was speechless.  He trembled from lips to fingertips to knees, fear, and anger and hurt instilled in his gut.  This was all wrong. 

Cas couldn't stop the tears.  He ran as they spilled down his face, stomping up the stairs and throwing himself into his room.  He cried for so long, he thought his lungs would collapse.  He was a mess of tears, but at least his sinuses were cleared.

"Fuck!" Dean cursed, slamming his hand down on the granite and bowing his head.   Of course, Castiel would run off, he always did, couldn't handle when things didn't go his way.   Well, Dean wasn't going to chase after him, to cater to him, he was going to let the boy calm down.

Dean started making dinner, deciding to just make sub from the cold cuts Sam had bought the other day.  It was simple and didn't require much work, work Dean didn't want to put in.  His mind kept wandering back to Castiel tough, the look of devastation on his face when he had cursed at him.   Dean's hand clenched tightly around the bun he was holding, squishing it almost in half. 

*****

Dean finished lunch and called all the boys in.  He didn't bother going up or sending one of the boys to see if Castiel wanted lunch, but Sam being Sam made Nigel go up, even though Dean insisted that Castiel wanted to be left alone. 

Maybe half an hour later, Cas was lying on the bed, soft sobs still emanating from him, but otherwise, he was cried out.  Nigel had come to ask if he wanted any dinner, but Cas just shook his head with a sad smile.

After Nigel left, Cas was alone again.  A fresh crop of tears sprang forth and he didn't try to hold them back.  Who did Dean think he was?  Did he realize how much power he held over Cas?  How much he meant to the boy?  The rejection made Cas' heartache.  All he wanted was for the hurt to go away, for Dean to come upstairs and scoop him up, and apologize for everything.  He knew it was wishful thinking.  Dean would do nothing.  He would look after the other boys and leave Cas be.  It was the right thing to do.  The thought made Cas feel guilty and he wiped his face with a shaking hand.

That was when it hit him.  He still had enough weed left for a joint.  It would calm him and maybe even help his cold.  If nothing else, then at least Cas would be high.  

He got off the bed tentatively, reaching under his mattress and pulling out the supplies he needed. It took him five tries to roll the joint—his hands were that unsteady.   But once it was ready, so was Cas.  He opened the window and slipped out into the ledge, sidling over to the roof.  His foot slipped a bit, but he made it to the roof.  There, he lit up and all his worries burnt away with the paper.

Cas inhaled slowly, holding the smoke in his lungs longer each time.  It increased his high, and he was numb in no time.  

The boy finished the joint, stubbing it out on the tile and flicking the butt into the guttering.  It hadn't worked.  Dean's words were still plaguing his brain, chasing each other round and round. It was enough to make the boy dizzy.  He lay on his back for a while, looking up into the rapidly darkening sky, and tears welled in his eyes again.  He wasn't sure if it was because of Dean, or because of the change of angle, or just because he was that high.  Whatever it was, it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

After an hour of sitting on the roof and laughing at every problem he'd ever encountered in his life, Cas decided it was time to retreat indoors.  He was still spectacularly high and didn't notice he'd stepped off the edge of the roof until he hit the ground.

He was on his back again, staring up at the beautiful sky.  He let out a groan, not sure if he could be heard or not, and not really caring all that much.  He tried to push himself up, but found he couldn't move his arms.  No, wait, he could curl his wrist up, but nothing more than that.  

He turned his head to look at the bent arm, and a surge of white-hot pain spurred through his neck and shoulders.  It was pure agony.  He let out a shrill cry at the pain.  His head swam.  Was he still high? Did he hit his head?  He didn't know.  But the grass was soft beneath his fingers and his chest heaved up another sob, and he blacked out.          

*****

Lunch went by quietly, some of the boys questioned where Castiel was, but luckily, they seemed to have remembered that Cas was sick and much to Dean's relief, didn't question it further.

 It was a couple of hours after lunch, Dean was tidying up the kitchen when Luke came rushing through the back door, slamming it loudly against the wall.  He was gripping the handle tightly and looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack and being sick.

"Dean," he gasped out, and something in his tone told the young man that he wasn't going to like what the boy was about to say.  "It's Cas. We think he fell."

 Cas' name was all Luke managed to get out before Dean dropped the plate he had just cleaned back in the sink and hurried over to the boy and out of the house.  Dean vaguely heard the boy explain what he thought had happened, but too many thoughts were going through Dean's head to really pay attention to him as rushed over to where he saw Benny and Nigel kneeling around a still form, with Luke right behind him.

 Dean Immediately recognized the form as Castiel as soon as he was close enough to see over Benny's head.  Dean dropped to his knees and Benny shuffled over to give Dean room.  The man looked over the boy and almost cried out.  Castiel was lying still as a statue, except for the soft rise of his chest.  He's eyes were close and for a moment it just looked like he was sleeping peacefully.  But Dean looked Castiel over and almost winced at the awkward angle of his right arm.  "Cas?" Dean tried, even though he knew he wouldn't get a response.

"Sam!  Get the fuck over here!" Dean yelled, not caring the slightest that he was swearing in front of the boys.  Dean wanted to move Castiel, move him into a more comfortable position, but he knew that it was not safe.

Dean looked up from Cas, looking around for his brother.  "Sam!" he yelled again and this time he saw his brother running over, a confused look coloured his face.

"Dean what the he-shit!" Sam ran a little faster when he noticed exactly why his brother was yelling. "What the fuck happened?" He asked, stopping by Castiel's head and squatting next to Dean.  "What the fuck happened?" Sam repeated. He looked from his brother to the other boys, who were in just a state of shock and panic.

"We think he fell," Benny spoke up, looking down at Castiel.

"How?" Sam looked up at the overhang and wondered why the hell the boy had been up there, especially since he was in bed sick. 

"Luke and I were just walking back to the house when we heard a sound-"   "It sounded like something hitting the ground," Luke cut in.  "And we went over and Castiel was here on the ground."  Sam nodded and watched as Dean checked Castiel's pulse.

"Call an ambulance and have Kevin keep the rest of the boys away—we don't need them crowding around," Dean ordered, his voice leaving no room for arguments.

 Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket.  Dean could vaguely hear Sam explain to the operator what happened, but everything sounded distant, almost like he was underwater.  He didn't even realize Sam had walked off until Kevin came over to check on the situation and to take Benny and Luke where the other boys were.

Sam returned just as the ambulance pulled up. "Dean, we need to let the paramedic handle this." Sam tugged on his brother's arm and Dean complied, standing up and moving back.

"I'm Paul," a young paramedic, who looked about Sam's age walked up to the two brothers and then kneeled next to Castiel.  "I'm Victor," the other paramedic, who looked a little older than Paul, but no older than Dean, introduce himself.  Like his partner, Victor keeled on the other side of Castiel.

Dean somehow found his voice and began to explain what Benny and Luke had told them.  Occasionally Sam would have to answer a question when Dean didn't know the answer or couldn't recall the information needed.

Dean didn't take his eyes off Cas, even when Paul placed a neck brace on the boy or when they both lifted him onto the stretcher.  When Victor came over to ask the Winchester brothers if one was going to ride with them, Dean didn't hesitate to volunteer and Sam agreed, saying he would sort things out here with Kevin and the meet them at the hospital as soon as he could. Dean just nodded and climbed in after Paul.

The ride was one of the longest in his life.  Castiel had come to at some point, but his gaze was distant and he didn't move an inch.  Paul tried to talk to him, explain what was happening, just as quickly as the boy opened his eyes, they fluttered shut and remained so for the rest of the trip.

When they brought the ambulance to the ambulance bay, Dean followed them through the doors, but was stopped by a nurse.  "Sir, I'm sorry, but we just need to check him before we can allow you back there," the young, blonde nurse explained as Dean watched the gurney holding Castiel disappears behind the doors.

Dean wanted to yell and argue that he needed to be there for Castiel, but he remembered that his temper was probably what got them into this mess.  If he had just talked to Cas and not yell at him—had not belittled him, Cas probably wouldn't have been on the roof.  So, instead, Dean just nodded his head and left the nurse lead his to a chair.

*****

When Cas properly came to, he was sitting with the help of a stranger.  The air smelled crisp and clinical, and it wasn't until he saw the woman's scrubs that he realized he was in the hospital.  He tried to speak, but the rush of air rubbed raw against his dry throat and he spluttered instead of talking.

The cough sent slashes of pain through his back and neck, and the nurse stopped tending his arm to comfort him.  "Hey, sweetie," she said soothingly.  "It's okay, calm down.  Here, have this."  It was a plastic cup with water.  He downed it in one go.

"There you go.  I'm Carmen, I'll be looking after you until night shift comes."  He nodded gratefully, but winced at the pain that caused.  "Oh, don't move your neck, honey.  You got whiplash when you fell. Your spine is okay, but the muscles are damaged; there will be bruising.  You strained your back as well. This arm is snapped clean in half just below the elbow, and you've got a bit of a cut up your calf. You must've grazed it when you fell from that roof."

Roof?  He was on the roof.   Jesus, he was a stupid son of a bitch.  He groaned, annoyed at himself, but the nurse must've thought it was from pain, so she soothed him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.  That didn't hurt, miraculously.  He wondered if the others knew.  He wondered who found him.

"Dean," he said suddenly, startling the nurse. "I need Dean."

"I'll see what I can do," Carmen said gently and adjusted Castiel's pillow so he wasn't propped up.  "Just lie down and relax.  I don't want you straining yourself.

*****

Dean was pacing around the waiting room, receiving irritated glares from the others in the room, but he couldn't care less.  He had just gotten off the phone with Sam, who had just called saying he was on his way.  Now all Dean wanted was to see Cas, but know seemed to be willing to give him a damn straight answer and it was pissing him off.

 "Dean?" a young nurse called from the doors, looking around.  Dean froze and immediately turned to her.

"Yeah?" he said, giving her a skeptical look.  "Castiel’s been looked after; you can go and see him now."  The nurse gave Dean a gentle smile and turned to lead the way to where the beds were.  

"I will warn you," She said, looking over her shoulder to make sure the man was following her.  "He is in bad shape, but luckily nothing too serious.  He's awake now and has been asking for you."  Dean inhaled sharply at that and Carmen turned around and smiled knowingly.  "The doctor will be by soon to discuss further treatment."

The nurse, whose name Dean realized was Carmen, stopped in front of a bed with the curtains drawn. "I'll be back to check on him soon.”

He could hear Carmen murmuring behind the curtain to another person, but he wasn't sure who it was until he shifted and his boots became visible under the curtain.  Carmen went away, and Cas spoke. "Dean?" he called quietly.  "Dean, is that you?" He coughed briefly and groaned at the pain that sliced through him as he jolted.  He whined in frustration and pain, feeling a swell rise in his throat as tears pricked his eyes.  No; he wouldn't cry.  Crying was what got him here in the first place.  He swallowed and struggled to sit up.

Dean heard a raspy voice say what sounded like his name, but it was barely audible, so Dean just gave a small smile and thanked the nurse.  Carmen just nodded and smiled before walking off and leaving Dean standing outside a row of curtains and beds.  

Dean's heart was thundering in his chest as he stood outside the curtains that divided him from Cas.  He was seriously considering to just wait for Sam and let him stay with Castiel.  After everything Dean had said, he knew he didn't deserve Castiel's forgiveness.

Dean was ready to turn and leave for the waiting room and just send Sam—it would be for the better, Dean told himself.  Then he heard the hoarse voice, this time a little louder and it was almost...desperate and that was all Dean needed before he was pulling back the curtains to Castiel's bed.

As soon as he saw Dean, a smile split his face.  The grin made his eyes crinkle, squeezing hot tears out onto his cheeks.  "Dean," he murmured, before pushing himself up.  His right arm was in a sling, so shoving up onto his left elbow was hard.  He managed it, but the change in angle sent pain through his neck.  "Ah!"

Dean was over to Castiel's side in a flash.  "Lie down, Cas," he said softly, easing the boy back.  "You shouldn't be sitting up until we talk to the doctor."  

Castiel grabbed onto Dean's hand as soon as he was settled back onto the bed and laced their fingers together, tightening his grip around the boy's hand.  Dean grabbed the chair next to the bed and moved it closer to the bed.  He sat down, still holding Castiel's good hand.

Cas sank back into the hard pillows, whining at Dean.  He curled his fingers between Dean's, clutching tightly to him.  "I'm sorry," he said shakily.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."  With every utterance, his voice broke and trembled more, tears running freely down his face.  He felt guilty.  What if he'd died?  He would never have made up with Dean.  The last things they would have said to each other would be words of anger.

"Cas," Dean said, almost pleading, "Why were you up on the roof?  You could have been seriously hurt or worse," Dean whispered the last word and gripped Castiel's hand a little tighter as the thought invaded his mind.  He didn't want to think like that, but his mind was persistent.

Cas was reluctant about telling Dean the truth.  He would be so mad.  But he knew it would be worse if he kept lying.  He swallowed and squeezed Dean's hand back.  

"I had a bad trip," he said quickly.  "I had some weed left after ... after the gang, and I was upset so I smoked it up on the roof."

Dean inhaled sharply and straightened up in his chair.  "How long?" Dean asked, trying to keep his voice calm and quiet.  He knew Castiel relapse on the drugs wasn't just recent—something like that was never just 'recent.'  Dean almost felt betrayed, that Castiel was lying to him, but he also knew he wasn't perfect in this relationship either.

"Two month—I think," he whispered.   He gripped Dean's fingers, trying to keep him close.  "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry," he whined, voice breaking as he started to sob.

"Why?" Dean demanded, but his voice was soft and almost broken.  He left like he had failed Cas, had brought this onto him.

Taking Castiel in was supposed to give the boy a new life; to feel safe and protected, instead, he returned to the drugs he so desperately depended on.  Which of Dean's math was correct, Castiel had started smoking up as soon as their relationship began.

"I let you down," Dean concludes, looking down at their entwined hands and then up to Castiel's tried face.  "I was supposed to protect you, but instead I-" Dean didn't finish his sentence, his voice was shaking and his heart clenched.

Cas' eyes widened.  Dean was blaming himself for Cas' actions that weren't right.  "No," he said, pulling Dean's hand to his face and kissing his fingers.  "I made the choice.  It was me."  

Dean had looked away again.  This was so wrong.  Cas was the one who was meant to be ashamed, not Dean.  "Please, look at me," he pleaded, pulling on Dean's hand.  He couldn't use his other.

Dean was about to let Castiel guide his face to his but a throat clearing and the sight of movement in front of the bed caused Dean to look up and make eye contact with the male doctor.  Dean straightened up again and loosened his grip so it didn't look as intimate.  

“Mr. Novak," the man greeted—a clipboard in hand.  "I'm Dr. Loanson," he introduced and began to look over the file.

"So according to this, you took a pretty nasty fall. You're actually lucky your injuries aren't too serious." The doctor cocked and eyebrow and looked up at Castiel.  Dean felt a surge annoyance like the doctor was trying to tell Cas that he better be fucking grateful and not piss it away.

"Your arm is broken," the doctor stated, as he began to list the extent of Castiel's injuries.  "You'll have to wear a cast for about six weeks.  I'll get one of the nurses to fit you for that later."  Dr.Loanson scribbled down something on the clipboard—a note Dean figured.

"You also have a conclusion, which we'll be monitoring closely for the next couple of days.  Also, you'll have some severe bruising on your back and I suggest to stay lying down as much as possible—no sitting up.  Considering though the event of an accident, you’re lucky you didn't sustain worse injuries.  "Now, I have other rounds to do, so do either of you have any questions?"

Cas shook his head at the doctor, looking down at his lap in shame.  When the doctor looked satisfied, he left the boy and his guardian.  Cas turned away from Dean, staring at the mint green curtain ahead of him.  "I'm sorry," he said again, quietly.

"I know you are," Dean replied, but he kept his gaze fixed on the edge of the sheet.  He wanted to say more, to discuss the event that happened earlier, but he didn't feel like now was the time to do so.  "You should probably get some sleep until the nurse come back; it'll probably be a long night."  Dean's hand remained attached with Castiel's, his arm outstretched as Castiel's laid next to him on the bed.

Cas looked reluctantly at Dean, expecting a stern, angry gaze. Instead, the man's expression was vacant, avoiding Cas' eyes.  "Are you mad at me?" the boy asked gently, shuffling closer to Dean. 

"You should get some sleep," Dean repeated, purposely avoiding Castiel's question.  There would be time to answer it later when he had figured out exactly how he was feeling.  Right now too much had happened in the past six hours for Dean to fully comprehend the aspects of how he was really feeling.

He was angry—at himself, at Cas, because of the boy's past, his own inability to share his emotion...he didn't know.  He didn't know and right now he wouldn't be able to talk to Castiel.

Cas nodded and squeezed Dean's hand briefly.  "Please stay with me," he murmured, quiet enough to be considered a request.

He didn't wait for Dean's answer, just closed his eyes and tried to get into a comfortable position to sleep.  He drifted off to the sounds of Dean breathing, machines beeping and nurses whispering.  It was going to be a long night.

As soon a Castiel let his eye shut, Dean finally let the few tears slide down his face.  He had been holding them in since the moment he saw Castiel lying on the ground.  He wanted to cry right there, but he couldn't, Benny and Luke were there and he had to stay strong.  He held onto Castiel's still hand, till, but kept his grip a lot looser since the boy's own grip grew slack.

A new nurse came by a few minutes later to check Castiel's vitals.  "He's going to need x-rays," the nurse, Stephanie, explained.

"We need to see the exact extent of his break before we fit him for his cast," she nodded towards Castiel's arm and continued to explain when she saw Dean's questioning look.  "We need him to be awake though."  Dean just nodded and looked down at Castiel.  

"He'll be okay, though," she said gently, clearly seeing the feelings the man had for the boy.  Dean just nodded and Stephanie left without another word.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Dean?" a familiar voice cut through Dean's thoughts. He looked to the foot of the bed, seeing Sam standing outside with the curtains pulled back.

"Sammy," Dean greeted, sitting up straight in the chair.   “How is he doing?" Sam walked over to Dean, and let his eyes wander over Castiel's body. 

Dean shrugged and turned to meet his brother's stare.  "Broken arm, concussion, bruised back and I think a few broken ribs," Dean tried his best to rely on the information to Sam.  "He's lucky it wasn't worse," Dean repeated the words the doctor and nurses have been saying since Dean arrived at the hospital.  

"Do you know how it happened?" Sam asked the one question Dean wasn't sure if he wanted his brother to know.  Dean shifted in his seat and Sam didn't miss the movement.  "Dean I need to know so we can report it."

"He fell off of the roof."  Dean omitted the part about the drugs, still feeling the need to protect Castiel, even though he wasn't sure exactly where they stood at the moment.

"Dean," Sam said in his reprimanding tone; he knew he left something out.  "Why the hell was he on the roof, to begin with?"  Dean just shrugged in response.  Sam sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.  "I'm going to get a nurse," he announced and left, which made Dean think he figured he could get more out of a nurse than his own brother—willingly that is.

Dean didn't realize when Sam came back, if he had, he wouldn’t be taking Castiel's hand in his and bringing up to his lips, whispering apologies or running his hand through the boy's messy hair.  Sam also didn't miss the look of pain plastered on Dean's features.

"Holy shit," Sam whispered, but loud enough to startle Dean and cause him to pull back.  "Sammy, I-" Dean stammered, holding up his hands in defence.

"How long?" Sam whispered dangerously quiet and refused to look at Dean, instead he kept his eyes on Cas.

"Sammy, I-" Dean tried again, but Sam cut him.  "Damn it, Dean.  Enough fucking around and answer my question!" Sam said, a little too loudly and another nurse approached them.  "I'm sorry gentlemen, but I must ask you to keep it down or ask you to leave." Dean just nodded to her, Sam too angry to move his state anywhere but Dean.

The nurse grimaced and looked as if she should walk off or break up whatever was transpiring between the brothers, she walked off anyway.

"Outside.  Now." Sam's tone made it clear not to argue, but of course, Dean just had to try.  "Cas, Sammy.  I can't just leave hi-"

"Now, Dean," Sam growled and stormed out of the ward with Dean reluctantly following his fuming brother.  "I'll be back soon, Cas," Dean whispered and placed a soft kiss on the boy's forehead.

*****

Cas woke to a nurse gently shaking his good arm, Dean nowhere in sight.  "Hey, Castiel," she greeted softly, kindly.  "We need to take you to get X-rays, okay?  We're going to leave you on the bed and roll you out, okay?"  Cas shook his head, stopping quickly because it sent pain through his neck.

"Dean," he squeaked feebly.  "Dean needs to know where I am."  The nurse hushed him, pressing a hand to his face.  "Dean will come back here," she said soothingly.  "We'll be back before you know it."

Cas gripped the bar of his bed the whole way to the x-ray room.  The nurse was nice and she soothed him with words of kindness, telling him not to worry.  

Cas still trembled in his sheets, wanting Dean here with him.  He wondered where he had gone and when.  He was so sure he'd fallen asleep with the man's hand in his own.  Maybe he was that mad at Castiel that he left.  Maybe he'd leave Castiel in the hospital.

Castiel let out a choked sob at the thought, and the nurse stopped the rolling bed immediately.  "C'mon, sweetie," she cooed, bending next to his bed and looking into his eyes.  "He'll come back," she promised. "But you have to do this first."  Castiel nodded after a few moments, and the nurse went back to wheeling his bed toward the x-ray room.

 "Wh-what's your name?" he called at her.  "Meg," she replied, giving him a sugar sweet smile.  He relaxed a tad; knowing his nurse's name was a step away from his anxiety and he sank back into the pillows again.   

The X-rays didn't take long.  It was less than five minutes.  Meg helped him stand against the machine, as he needed to be standing for it.  Once he was steady, Meg had to leave the room.  She came back quickly though, as soon as the X-rays were taken, and guided him back into his bed.  "See? Not so bad, huh," she said cheerfully, grinning at him and trying to lift his spirits.

 Castiel was calmer with someone by his side, especially someone like Meg who wasn't condescending or probing.  She just wanted to help him and Castiel was grateful.  

Once back behind his curtain, Meg tucked his sheets around him.  She was just about to leave when Castiel called her name.   She stopped at the curtain, looking expectantly at the boy.  "Thank you, Meg," he uttered, a small smile gracing his face. She smiled back and left him to his own devices.  Dean wasn't back, so Castiel decided to try to sleep some more.  

*****

Sam and Dean walked in silence to an empty corridor and didn't stop until Sam turned and glared at his brother.  "I don't want any bullshit, Dean.  You're going to be fucking honest with me for one and tell me when the fuck did this start." 

Dean would be lying if he said Sam wasn't worried him; he'd never seen his brother this pissed and at him too.  Sure, he did things that irritated Sam, but this; this was different—a lot different.  There wasn't any use to argue with Sam, he knew and he knew that.

"We, ugh-"  "Please tell me you at least waited until after he-" Sam never finished his sentence—he didn't have to, Dean's face gave away the answer. 

"I don't believe this," Sam said, almost like he actually couldn't.  "Well, what did you want me to do Sam?"  Dean knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as he saw Sam's 'you-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me' face slip into anger.

"How about don't fuck him?  Jesus, Dean.  I-I-I honestly don't know... shit," Sam stammered out and began to pace in front of Dean.  "You do realize that you can get into serious trouble here."

 "It's legal, Sammy," was Dean only argument and even he knew it was a weak one; it wouldn't matter if it was legal for people to form an opinion.

"You're his guardian, Dean!  You're not supposed to fuck him!"  Sam's voice was not getting louder and louder and for the moment, Dean was appreciative of the empty corridor. 

"It's not about that!" Dean defended, feeling protective of Castiel.  "Yes!  It is, Dean!  That's all this is ab- fuck!" Sam cut himself off and stared wide eyed at Dean as if everything was finally fitting together. "Shit, Dean.  Why?" the question came out desperately and almost pleadingly and Dean knew, what he was asking. 

"Is it because you feel the need to help him because he reminds you of you?"  "What?" Dean growled, feeling a little insulted.   He would let Sam insult him all he wanted, but he wouldn't let his brother question his feelings about the boy he loved. 

"God, Sam.  Do you really think that lowly of me?"  "I'm just trying to figure this out."  Sam let out an exasperated laugh.  "I mean, for fuck's sakes, you're in love with a fucking seventeen-year-old."

"He'll be eighteen in less than a month," Dean responded, but it sounded petulant. 

"That's your fucking logic?   He'll be eighteen in soon?  Dean... you are missing the fucking point."  Sam turned around and let out a something that sounded like a cross between a wine and cry.  "I just-I just can't do this right now." 

Dean gaped at his brother.  "So that's it?  I'm in love and suddenly it's a bad thing?"  Dean felt pissed-off course it would end up like this.

"It's the fucking circumstances, Dean!"  Deep down, Sam was happy that his brother finally found someone he cared for, but it was the question of why they were here if he and Castiel loved each other; clearly, something had happened. 

"Why was he up on the roof?" Sam asked, his voice a little softer now that he tried to take a few deep breaths.

 Dean shifted on his feet and stared at the ground.  He didn't know if he should tell Sam everything, to admit that he had been an ass and pushed Castiel back to his drugs, but he also didn't want Sam's opinion on Cas to change. 

"He was smoking...weed," Dean whispered the last word and wasn't sure if Sam had heard him. 

"Weed?  You let him smoke we-"  

"I didn't know!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands out to his sides.  "I didn't know," Dean repeated, his voice almost sounding broken now as the realization hit him.

 Sam's face softened, but Dean didn't pay any attention to it.  Sam realized right there, that both Dean and Castiel hadn't been honest with each other, that their relationship seemed almost more toxic than anything else and that was probably due to the sneaking around—the inability to be out in the open with each other.

"I need-I need to process this," Sam mumbled, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes, let alone look at him.   

Dean watched his brother start to pace again.  "Sammy, I-" Dean began but stopped when Sam turned and shook his head and Dean complied willingly.

"Just go back to Cas and I'll call Kevin and update him."  Sam fished his phone out of his pocket and walked down the hallway, leaving Dean standing alone and feeling like shit.  Sam's words kept ringing in his head.  Was their relationship wrong?  It certainly wasn't the best relationship, but was it a doom from the start as Sam was making it seem?  Dean tried to will the thoughts away, but they wouldn't go, so he spent the short walk back to the ER replaying his argument with Sam.

When Dean returned to Castiel's bed he was sleeping, which was not so great for Dean.  He wanted to talk to Castiel—his turn to apologize.  Instead, he had to sit listen to the rhythmic beeping of Castiel's heart monitor and let Sam's words continue to haunt him.  He took Castiel's limp hand again and softly stroked it with his thumb. 

*****

When Cas woke up again it was because something was pinning his arm to the bed.  A figure.  Its head slumped over the boy's arm and his arms crossed on the bed against Cas' thigh.  Dean.  He had come back.  A swell of happiness rose in Cas' chest and he couldn't help the grin that split his face.

"Dean," he said quietly, trying to pull his trapped arm out from under the man.  "Dean," he said it a little more forcefully this time, shoving gently at his shoulder with his now free arm. 

Dean squinted his eyes as a harsh light shone in them.  He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name and shoving his shoulder.  Dean shifted his head, which was lying on his arm and sat back up. He rubbed his other hand over his eyes and let them adjust to the new light.  He didn't know when, but he must have fallen asleep.

"Cas?" he said, his voice hoarse with sleep and looked at the boy, who was now staring at him.  He must have been the one who woke him.  "Sorry," he mumbled, feeling bad for falling asleep on the boy.  He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.  "How are you feeling?"

Cas smiled weakly at Dean, admiring his sleep-rumpled face.  "I feel a lot better," he whispered.  "The nurse who took my X-rays was really nice."  He wasn't sure how well small talk would go down, but it was better than assuming things were all okay.  Maybe Dean was still upset with him.

“That's good," Dean nodded and looked at Cas.  The boy looked exhausted and a bruise began to shadow his left cheek.  He wondered why Castiel wasn't in any pain, but he then figured he was probably loaded up on painkillers.

"Listen, Cas, I-" Dean clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward, balancing his arms on his thighs.  This was it, he was finally going to admit his wrong and apologize—it may be an easy out, considering Castiel was drugged up on prescription medication.  But he still seemed aware of everything  "These past couple of weeks I've-" the curse sound of the curtains being pulled back cut Dean off and standing at the foot of the bed was a middle-aged female doctor.

 "Good evening, Castiel," she greeted, as she looked over a clipboard.  "I'm Doctor Hooper and I'm taking over for Dr. Loanson.  She gave a smile to the boy and then to Dean.  Castiel frowned at the doctor.  Dean was about to say something important and she had interrupted. 

"I understand you fell off the roof of your house,” Dr. Hooper went on.  “I also see that you were taken for X-rays and I'm here to discuss them further.” 

The doctor glanced over her clipboard and then up at Dean.  "You're his guardian?" she asked Dean, who replied with a 'yes.'  She nodded and continued on, "well from what we found on his x-rays, his elbow was dislocated, but it wasn't as clean as we thought—we found a piece of bone that has broken off.  I wish to perform another X-ray for further examination before we discuss surgery."

As soon as she said surgery, Castiel paled and looked desperately at Dean.  "Surgery?" he squeaked, looking at the doctor with a fearful expression.  He whipped his head back to Dean, causing him to cry out at the sharp pain in his neck.  He lifted his hand to hold the injury, but it was his bad elbow and he groaned at the strain of movement.  

"Dean," he groaned, ending on a whimper.  His eyes watered as pain spread through his back and arm. The pain medication worked fine as long as he didn't move, but in his panic, he had forgotten.

Dean moved a hand to Castiel's shoulder and began to rub soothing circles.  "You need to stop doing that," he chided but tried to smile encouragingly.  "You're just going to put yourself through more pain."

Doctor Hopper scribbled something onto her clipboard and then looked up at the two males.

 "A nurse will be by shortly to bring you to X-ray," she explained, trying to smile gently at the boy, hoping he would calm down.  "I'll be back with the results later and we can discuss further action after that."  The last part was directed at Dean, who nodded understandingly.

The doctor left and Castiel turned to Dean, carefully this time.  "Dean, I don't want to have surgery," he whined.  He knew it was stupid to be afraid; it was just his elbow after all.  But what if something went wrong?  He breathed deeply, trying to concentrate on anything but his pain and impending surgery.  He needed to stop being weak in front of Dean.  The older man was probably tired of trying to calm him down.

"It's just your elbow, Cas.  It's a minor surgery.  You'll be fine."  Though Dean never had a surgery before, Sam did have an appendectomy and he was just fine.  Dean's apology was set aside for the moment; right now it was calming Castiel down.

Castiel nodded and squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the ugly green of the room and focusing on Dean's soothing hand at his back.  It was lulling him to sleep again, but he peeled his eyes open, needing to wait for more X-rays.

"Hello again," Carmen greeted them and talked over to the side of the bed and proceeded to unlock the bed's wheels.  "I see we are heading for more X-rays.  I'm just going to take Castiel over there; feel free to just stay here, it shouldn't be too long," she said to Dean as she maneuvered the bed out from their little area.

"I'll be here," Dean nodded and relaxed into the chair.  He gave Castiel a soft smile and a thumbs up before he disappeared down the corridor.

Once Dean has left along, he took a look around the small curtained room.  There wasn’t anything for Dean to do.  He noticed a woman lying in the bed across from them—her curtains were only half closed.

He was considering texting Sam and updating him about Castiel, since he hasn't heard from his brother since Sam left him alone in that hallway.   However, he still wasn't sure about Castiel's exact condition so he didn't want to jump to conclusions, even though it seemed confirmed that Castiel would need surgery.  Instead, he just sent a quick text saying Castiel just went for some X-rays.  He waited for a few minutes but didn't relieve a reply so he just put his phone back in his pocket and waited for Castiel.

*****

Carmen was really nice.  She talked to Castiel about the little things, distracting him from his pain and anxiety.  They were half way down the corridor to the X-ray room when she asked, "Do you have any questions, Castiel?"

He had to think for a moment—head hazy from the painkillers.  "Um," he muttered, fiddling with the bed sheet.  "Yeah. Uhh if I need sur-surgery, what's the uh…process for that?" Carmen looked him over and then stopped the bed, coming to his side.

"You're nervous." It was a statement, not a question, and Castiel was grateful for her tact.  "If you need surgery, we see which surgeons are available if there's an alternative, and so some test.  They could be blood tests, urine tests, or any number of others.  These tests will help us decide how much of which anesthetics we will put you on with the least side effects.  We wheel you into surgery, we put you under, we fix you up and then you stay here until you're healed enough to go home.  Does that sound okay to you?” 

Castiel thought for a moment, considering the amount of tests and paperwork that might need doing.  He decided that he liked Carmen and her honesty, how she told him exactly what was going on in terms he could understand.  She wasn't judgmental or condescending; she cared.  

Cas smiled up at her and nodded.  "Thank you," he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady.  She combed her fingers through his hair and then wheeled him into the X-ray room once more.

It was about fifteen minutes later when Carmen wheeled Castiel back.   She shifted the bed back into place and locked the wheels again.   "Everything is done," Carmen said, giving Castiel a smile and then Dean.  "Dr. Hooper will be over as soon as she’s looked over the X-rays to discuss everything with you." 

Dean thanked the Carmen as did Castiel.  "I'll try and make my way over here again later."  Once she turned to leave, Dean took Castiel's hand, if the young nurse saw, she didn't comment.

Castiel glanced at Dean sheepishly, an apology in his eyes.  "Carmen explained what would happen if I need surgery," he said quietly.  "I'm okay with it now.  Sorry for over reacting."  He let Dean hold his hand and even squeezed back a little.  

"Um," he said, glancing at their hands. "I'm not going to break any more than I already have.  W-would you hug me f-for a second?"  

"Umm, yeah, sure," Dean agreed, though it seemed more like he was questioning the request.  He wrapped his arms awkwardly around Castiel, keeping his grip loose and trying to avoid his injured arm.

"Anything else you want me to do?" Dean asked with a slight chuckle.  Castiel has already succeeded in making him do things he normally never did in public and now, here he was, hugging Castiel outside the house, probably for the first time since the grocery store.

Cas shook his head against Dean's shoulder.  "Just hold me," he whispered, trying his hardest not to sound like a petulant child.  He tightened his grip around Dean's shoulders gently, enough that it could be construed as pleading him to stay.

About twenty minutes later, Dr. Hooper returned.  "Hello, Castiel.  How are you feeling right now?"

Cas looked up at the doctor with hesitant eyes.  The nurses he liked.  The doctors he wasn't so convinced by.  

"T-tired," he stammered out.  "A-and my neck hurts."  He raised his good arm and placed his hand over the nape, right next to his spine.  "Here. But only if I move it."

"Well, I know it's difficult, but try not to move, it will only put more strain on your back.  I reviewed your new X-rays," Dr. Hopper said, switching topics.  "What it showed was, a piece of bone around your elbow had broken off and is just floating around.  Now, most times we just ignore it and it normally it fixes itself, but due to the position, your elbow is not able to go back in place so we will have to go in to remove the bone piece."

Dean listened to the doctor, paying close attention to what she was explaining so he could relay the information back to Sam.

"Luckily, the break isn’t too big," she continued and looked to Dean and then Castiel, since Dean was the boy's guardian; she needed to make sure he understood everything too.  "So a disc or replacement is not required and since Castiel is young, the recovery time shouldn't be too bad.  But we'll discuss that later."

Dean nodded and took Castiel's hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

The doctor looked down at their entwined hands and squinted her eyes, but when she looked up at the two males, her face was neutral.   "Unfortunately," she spoke up again, her tone very professional, "we don't have a surgeon available tonight, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow and normally we send the patient home since it's not a severe injury, but because of your other injuries, we need you to stay the night."  

Cas whined at the prospect of spending the night in the hospital; all he wanted was to go home, curl up in bed with Dean and pretend this was all a bad dream.  He didn't miss the look on the doctor's face when she saw their hands, however, and he made sure to keep his distance until she'd left. 

"A nurse will move you as soon as we have a room ready for you," the doctor explained and then walked off—probably to take care of her other patients.  Castiel and Dean were not left alone again, their hands still connected.

"How do you feel?" Dean asked, know Castiel would understand what he really meant.  He threaded his other hand through the boy's messy, dark strands as he laid down on his bed.  "It probably won't be so bad, Cas.  They'll probably give you something to help you sleep."

Cas nuzzled into Dean's touch, grateful for the warmth his hand provided.  "Probably is a big gamble," he murmured, bring Dean's hand to his lips to kiss his freckled fingers.  He left his lips pressed to the knuckles and closed his eyes, just breathing and trying to escape from the pain.  He purposefully dodged Dean's question, settling back into the pillows and grunting in annoyance.  "I want to go home."

"I know," he said, nodding his head and continuing to run his fingers through the boy's hair.  "I'll be here as long as I can."  Dean lifted from his seat a little and kissed Castiel's lips quickly, barely touching.

When Dean pulled back from the kiss, Cas whined.  "Wait," he gasped out.  "Come back."  He craned upwards to catch Dean's lips in his again, as Dean hadn't moved away.  The kiss was longer, but still chaste.  And when Cas pulled back again, he smiled up at Dean.  "Sorry," he muttered. " Not sure when I can do that again." 

"Don't be sorry," Dean whispered, _it should be me_ , he wanted to whisper, but right now wasn't the time.  When would it be time?  In the course of seven hours, Dean has about two attempts to apologize and both times he was interrupted by more pressing matters.  Now, even with the doctors and nurse gone for the moment, wasn't the time; Castiel needed his support not a reminder of the past events.

Cas looked down at his lap and blushed.  "I-I'm going to try and sleep," he murmured.  “At least until they have a room."  He kissed Dean's hand again and settled back into the pillows, wincing as his neck and back protested.  "Goodnight, Dean," he sighed before closing his eyes once more.

Castiel fell asleep soon after he closed his eyes.  He watched the rise and fall of the boy's chest and couldn't help wonder if breathing caused him any pain, the doctor had said he had a couple of broken ribs.  He figured he had a couple of hours until Castiel woke up again, so he headed down to the cafe to get a coffee; he figured it would be a long night.

Cas woke in the middle of the night a few times.  The first time, Dean wasn't there and he whined and tried hard to fall back asleep, even though he felt alone.  The second time, Meg was checking his blood pressure and making sure he could breathe properly.  Dean was standing in the corner, watching with a terse expression.  Cas drifted back to sleep soundlessly once Meg was done. The third time, they were packing up his bed and moving him down the corridor.

"Wh-what's going on?" he slurred, bright lights of the hallway burning his eyes.  Nurse Carmen was with him this time, and she told him gently that they were moving him to a private room.  

"Does Dean know?" It was all he managed to say before blacking out again, not even finding out the answer to his question.

Cas woke again at three in the morning.  He knew because there was a clock on the wall of his room. The sound of a toilet flushing and the sink running were what brought him into consciousness.    

"Hey," Dean whispered, moving over to Castiel bed.  "How are you feeling?"  Castiel had been asleep for more than eight hours since he fell asleep back in the E.R.  Luckily for Dean, they had allowed him to stay with Castiel.  

As soon as they came to take him to his room, he went to talk to Sam and tell him to just head home for the night.  The conversation was short and tense, but at least Sam had made the attempt thank him for staying with Castiel and allowing him to go home.

Cas hummed happily and shifted his body toward Dean, glad to see him.  The movement caused some pain, but not as much as he was expecting.  That's when he noticed the drip in his arm.  They were giving him morphine; thank fuck.

"I'm okay," he mumbled sleepily at Dean.  "When did they hook me up to morphine?"

"About five hours ago; just after they moved you. You kind of woke up and were in pain, so I asked them to give you something to help ease the edge off."  Dean gave Castiel a small smile, but it was covered by shadows from the low light out in the hall.

"You should sleep, you have a big day tom- in a few hours," Dean corrected himself when he looked at his watch and saw that is was early morning and not night.

"Thank you," Cas murmured with a smile.  He closed his eyes again to sleep, but opened them again as he sensed Dean just standing there still.  He shifted again, trying to lift his head.  "Dean," he groaned out, half in pain, half in beckoning.  "Please, come here.  I w-want you to lie with me."

 “Cas, you shouldn't strain yourself."  Dean wanted to oppose, to say it wasn't a smart idea, but at the same time, he wanted to agree, as part of his apology to Cas.

Castiel shook his head and shifted over wincing in pain, but he smiled reassuringly when Dean opened his mouth to protest.  "Cas, I don't want to hurt you," he said, but even that protest seemed halfheartedly to his own ears.

He slowly eased himself onto the mattress, being extra careful not to jostle Castiel anymore than he had to to make room for the man.  He took Castiel's hand and linked his own hand and laid them on his chest as he stared up at the dark ceiling

Cas sighed contentedly, glad for Dean's warmth beside him.  He squeezed Dean's hand, trying to tell him he was okay.  "Thank you," he managed to get out before he drifted to sleep again.

Dean stayed awake until Castiel woke up again.  A nurse had come in sometime around six to check on Castiel.  She didn't comment on Dean being in the bed as well, she just fiddled with the IV stand and then left.

It was quiet in Cas' room except for the ECG, which beeped methodically and unobtrusively.  It was also darker, dimmer, so Cas didn't have to squint when he wanted to look at Dean.

When Cas woke, he shifted, instinctually moving toward the warmth beside him.  He nuzzled into Dean's shoulder, wiping sleep from his eyes onto the man's shirt.  He was too drugged up to care.

"Mmmmornin'," he greeted Dean with a low chuckle.  Chuckle?  He must be dosed up real good.

"Morning," Dean greeted and shifted himself so he looked to get a better look at Castiel.  "How are you feeling?"

The bruise on Castiel's face was more noticeable now, a purple shadow cover half of his cheek.  He looked tired and worn out, but Dean figured he didn't look any better.  He had slept aside from a hour when he let himself doze off.

"Warm," the boy sighed, sagging against the man.  "Thank you, Dean."  He pressed his face into the man.  At seven thirty a nurse came to check on Castiel again and this time Dean had to get out.  

At seven thirty a nurse came to check on Castiel again and this time Dean had to get out. He sat back in the chair, which was pushed almost right against the bed.  He kept the chair where it was, not wanting to be too far from Castiel right now.

The nurse informed them that Castiel's surgery was scheduled for ten this morning and they couldn't give him anything to eat or drink until after the surgery.

"Ten," Cas said, contemplatively.  That was soon.  He groaned in frustration, but the amount of painkillers pulsing through him prevented him from forming full sentences.

"Just think of it this way: you'll get it over with sooner," Dean said, trying to point out a positive for Castiel to focus on.  "Just try to relax until then."

Cas groaned again and pressed his face into Dean's shoulder.  "Will you stay with me until then?" he asked timidly.

"Of course, Cas.  I'm going to have to anyway, but I won't leave the room until you do." Dean promised, running his hand through Castiel’s messy hair.

Unfortunately that time came much too soon for the two lovers and at half past nine a blonde-headed nurse was wheeling Castiel out to get prepped for surgery.  They shared a briefed kiss when the nurse wasn't look and Dean promised to be there when he woke up.

Cas whined briefly when the nurse came to take him to surgery.  He tried to make their kiss linger for as long as possible, but he inevitably had to leave.

He was wheeled into a white room that smelled too clean and hurt his eyes.  His fingers trembled and his lungs fluttered.  He didn't know why he was so afraid, and he tried to steady himself.  Carmenthe nurse was there almost immediately, scrubs covered by a protective coat, latex gloves, a hair net and a mask covering her face.  

While she wasn’t Carmen, she did her best to try and sooth Castiel, and despite all the coverings, the woman's presence was soothing.  She talked to him while the other nurses and doctor bustled around and hooked him to machines.  He didn't even notice when the anesthesia was injected, and he was out in no time.

*****

Dean headed to the cafe ten minutes after Castiel had left.  He quickly texted both Sam and Kevin, which he received an encouraging responds from the latter and a short "update us as soon as he's done,' from Sam.  It was obvious his was still pissed off and that bothered the older brother greatly.

Dean was told it would be about an hour for the surgery and then an hour or so before he could see Cas in recovery.  

There wasn't much to distract his mind for the next two hours.  It was a hospital, but still, there should be something besides a couple of TVs scattered in the waiting room with infomercial and the morning news shows, both of which he did not watch on a daily basis and wasn't about too.

 He settled with his lukewarm coffee and some bullshit commercial about a hose that wouldn't tangle.

"She'll be okay," a woman in her mid-sixties, who was sitting on the set of seats adjacent from his, said. Dean just stared at the woman, not exactly sure if she was talking to him or the elderly man sat across the room.

"Sorry?" Dean asked, looking at the woman.

"The one who's got you so nervous; she'll be okay."  She smiled gently at Dean and this time there was no mistaken whom she was talking to.  

"Oh, right. Thanks," Dean nodded his head, not bothering to correct the 'she' and proceeded to take a sip of his coffee.  The woman just smiled and went back to watching the talk show the news had just switched to.

 "Castiel Novak?" an older looking nurse walked from a set of doors and called, looking around the room.

"That's me," Dean called and stood up.  "How is he?"

"You can go back now.  He's just waking up so he'll probably be a little out of it for the next few hours," the nurse explained, "so just stay with him, but don't ask him anything that would stress him out,” the nurse instructed.

"Yeah sure," Dean nodded in agreement; he was more interested in seeing Castiel and was sure he would agree to almost anything to do so.  

"Right this was, then."  The nurse led Dean through the doors she just came out of and down a little hallway until they came to a large room that almost resembled the E.R.  She took him to a bed down at the end of the room, where Castiel was lying, large, white gauze covered his arm and his eyes closed, giving the illusion he was sleeping, though he probably was.

"You can sit with him," the nurse said, nodding towards the chair that was next to the bed.  "As soon as he's more alert we’ll move him back to his room and then he will have to go to get his cast size, but that part won't be until later."

"Thank you," Dean vaguely remembered saying and hearing the nurse walk off, but he couldn't remember if it was in that order, he was to focused on Castiel lying in the bed.

Dean walked over to the bed and grabbed Castiel's free hand.  "Hey, Cas," Dean spoke, even though Castiel probably was out of it, it made him feel better to talk, maybe he could practice his apology. "You're doing great.  Sam and Kevin want to know how you are doing.  Maybe I'll call them after I know “you are okay."  Dean felt a lump form in his throat from his last words, the event of their fight and then Castiel lying on the ground...broken, flashed through Dean's mind.

"I never should have got mad at you, Cas.  You were just being yourself and I was pissed at Sammy and I took it out on you.  I never should have."  Dean took a deep breath and tried to control his breathing.  He knew he would have to repeat this again when Castiel was actually aware of everything, but right now he need to say what he's been putting off for a day now.  "I'm sorry, Cas.  I was never very good to you.  I was always angry and telling you off and a part of me wonders if you are better off without me."  The last part stung to say, but it had been a reoccurring thought in his mind since a week after they told each other 'I love you.'

*****

Cas could hear a muffled voice, but he couldn't make out words at all. His head was heavy and full, and he rolled it toward where the words were coming from. He slurred out a greeting, knowing that the hulking shape could only be Dean.

"Hey there," Dean whispered when Castiel started—trying to speak.  "Just relax.  Don't try to strain yourself."  Castiel had tried to open his eyes, which dropped heavily with sleep.

Cas stayed awake, but his brain was fuzzy.  For hours, all he could hear were muffled sounds and all he could see were blurry shapes.  It was irritating, and tears of frustration pricked his eyes at some stage or another.  The one thing that gave Castiel a reason to keep his eyes open was sitting right beside him.

It was another hour until they allowed Castiel back in his room he was still a little groggy, but awake enough to be deemed well enough to more.

"He can have something to eat now," the red-headed nurse, Victoria, informed Dean as she pushed Castiel down the hall.  "He can have really anything, but maybe for the moment try to give him soft foods, like Jell-O or ice cream.

Cas tried his hardest to isolate the sounds of the nurse and Dean talking, trying to understand them.  He managed to catch a few words here and there, but he still didn't know what was going on.  His eyes were better.  They had a haze over them from the medication, but otherwise Castiel could see relatively clearly.  He was never happier to see Dean.

Dean texted Sam and Kevin as soon as they got Castiel settled.  He knew he should have called for something like this, but calling would take too long and he didn't want to be away from Castiel for too long.

When he looked up from his phone, he saw a pair of bright blue eyes staring at him.  They were still a little glazed over, but his stare seemed focused which was good.

"Hey there.  Good to see you’re actually awake," Dean teased and put his phone in his shirt pocket.  It hadn't occurred to him until now that he was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

Castiel grunted in response, not confident that he could speak without slurring.  He threw out his good hand and made a gesture, beckoning Dean to him, opening and closing his fingers desperately. "Deangghh," the boy grunted, his voice tired and straining.

"What is it, Cas?" Dean asked, taking the boy's closed hand and leaned forward to be closer to Castiel.

Castiel tried to chuckle at Dean's worried tone, but it came out as a cough.  All he wanted was for Dean to be close and the man thought something was wrong.   It was kind of adorable.  

"Jus neee' you," he growled out, twisting his hand so their fingers intertwined.  He pulled their joined hands up to his lips and just rested them against his mouth, humming happily.

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked, since Castiel seemed more aware and awake.  "I'll go and get you something."

Cas had to think about the question as his brain was still a little muted.  His stomach growled at him as he thought and he looked at Dean and nodded.  "But stay."  His words were getting clearer, but his throat still stuck a little.  "Nurse can get food. Want you here."

"I can just run downstairs for a second.  I won't be gone too long."  Dean didn't want to leave Castiel, but he really need to call Sam and update him and going to get Castiel something to eat would give him and excuse.

Cas whined but nodded, knowing he should eat and that Dean wouldn't leave him.  He kissed their fingers before saying, "Okay."

"Okay," he mirrored and lifted from the chair.  He closed the distance from the chair to the bed, so he was looking down on Castiel.  "What do you want? Anything you want—as long as it's soft," Dean said, remembering what the nurse has said.

Castiel just shook his head. "Surprise me," he teased, a playful smile gracing his features.  He squeezed the man's hand again and then released it, knowing he had to let go if Dean was going to leave.

"Right," Dean nodded and leaned in to place a brief kiss to Castiel's forehead.  "I'll be back soon."  Dean pulled back and quickly left the room.

While Dean was downstairs, a nurse had come in to check his blood pressure, lungs and heartbeat.  When she was done and had left, Castiel tried lifting himself to a sitting position so he could eat whatever Dean brought him.  It was a huge effort and Castiel didn't have the energy.  He flopped back onto the bed and gazed in frustration at the light fixtures above him.

*****

As soon as he was on the main floor he went over to the little cafe next to the gift shop and got in line, which was a reasonable size.  However, so dick seemed to have ordered the whole fucking menu, causing a delay.  "Shit," he mumbled under his breath and pulled out his cell phone; it was probably a good idea to call Sam while he waited.

The phone rang four times before Sam's voice was heard through Dean's end.  "How is he?" Sam asked, cutting straight to it and not giving Dean a second to say 'hi.' 

"Well, hello to you too, baby brother," Dean said, his tones laced with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 

Sam sighed heavily on his end and Dean could just imagine Sam pulling a bitch face.  "Hi, Dean.  How is he?" he corrected himself, but repeated his earlier question. 

"He's fine, Sammy.  A little tired and groggy, but...he's doing okay."  There was a low hum on Sam's end,

"How are you?"  Sam's question shocked Dean, out of all the questioned he expected his brother to ask, that was not one of them.  "I'm fine, Sam.  A little tired, but it's Cas we need to worry about." 

"Any idea when he'll be released?" 

The line began to move again and Dean moved up, looking at the menu to try and figure out what to get Castiel.  "According to the doctor, he'll be here for a few days; he still has a concussion—it not as severe as they thought, luckily, but he's drugged up right now, so I don't think he feels the pain.  We're going to talk to the doctor again soon and then Castiel has to get fitted for his cast."

There was another hum and then Sam spoke again, "the boys are worried about him.  They asked if they could come and see him.  I told them maybe, depending on how Castiel is doing." 

"I'll talk to Cas about," Dean agreed and made a mental note to ask Castiel if he wanted the other boys to visit him. 

"I'll come later today so you can go home and change.  Don't worry, I'm not going to take over," Sam reassured when Dean was about to protest.  "I think we both know that Cas would rather have you there than me." 

Dean felt his neck heat up and cleared his throat.  "Right, so I guess I'll see you later," Dean said, getting ready to end the conversation, also since he was next in line. 

"Yeah, Dean.  I'll call you when I'm on my way."  "Good," and with that Dean ended the call.

"Hi," he greeted the young female behind the counter when it was his turn.  "Large coffee, chicken soup, a muffin and juice."  The girl punched in his order and totaled the cost.  Dean handed her the money and moved to the side as he waited for the order. 

When he returned to Castiel's room, the teen was lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.  "Hey, got you soup."  Dean held up the white container and pulled over the wheeled tray.  "I also got you a muffin in case you feel like you can handle solids."  Dean placed the brown paper bag next to the soup and the bottle of juice.  He sat back in the chair with his coffee.

Castiel watched as Dean placed the food in front of him.  He smiled and thanked Dean quietly.  

He tried to sit again, and succeeded this time.  But he didn't think he could stay upright for too long.  With a trembling hand, Castiel removed the lid of the soup and dipped his plastic spoon into it.  By the time the spoon reached his lips, it was half-empty, a trail of soup conspicuously laid on the table while more dripped on Cas' hospital gown.  He sighed in frustration and kept eating, slower so he would spill less.  His back was starting to ache from the strain of sitting up, though and he had to slump back again after only a few mouthfuls.

"Here," Dean said gently and reached over, grabbing the little white remote attached to the bed.  He pressed a button, which began to raise the top half of the bed up, positioning Castiel into a sitting position.  It may not have taken all the strain off the boy's back, but at least Castiel didn't have to struggle to hold himself up.

"Oh," Cas muttered, an embarrassed blush flushing his cheeks.  "Thank you."  He cast his eyes down, staring at his still steaming soup.  The angle was much better, and he didn't have to hold himself up. He ate slowly still, not wanting to spill, but it was much easier than before.

"Did you call Sam?" Cas looked over at Dean, watching the man watch him.

Dean smiled and watched as the boy ate his soup.  His smile faulted for a moment, slightly confused about Castiel question, wondering why that question would cross his mind.  He quickly recovered though and smiled again.  "Yeah, I did.  He was asking how you are doing.  He also said he's going to come later today so I can straighten some things out," Dean said, remember  back to the conversation he had with his brother.

"Good," he replied, staring back down at his soup. "You need a shower."  His tone was light and teasing, but he still glanced at Dean to make sure he understood it was a joke.  There were too many times when they had misunderstood each other in the past few months, and he wasn't about to fuck it up now. 

Dean scoffed in mock disbelief.  "The boys also want to come see you."  Dean played with his coffee cup as he looked at Castiel.  "How would you feel about that?  It wouldn't be today, though; you need your rest right now."

Cas smirked at Dean's fake offence.  But it soon faded when he mentioned the other boys.  He didn't want the younger ones to see him like this.  "I-I don't want the younger ones to see me like this."  He spoke his mind, because otherwise he would be uncomfortable.  He didn't want to put any more strain on their relationship by lying about something as little as his worry for the boys.

"You don't have to, Cas.  But, Benny and Luke?   What about them?"  Dean could sense the boy's discomfort, but he refused to comment on it and try to get Castiel to talk.  He knew it was probably because of the state of him, but he also could tell it was something else.  He wouldn't push him though, pushing him always lead to more fight than resolve.  He wasn't in the mood to fight anymore and he knew Castiel just didn't have the energy anymore as well.

Cas nodded, trying to appease Dean.  "Yeah, Benny and Luke can come," he offered, still looking at his half-eaten soup.  Most of it was on his chest now. 

"I'll let Sammy know when he comes, but it's best if you wait until you’re feeling better.  Wouldn't want you stressing out on me," Dean's tone was light and teasing.

"How is your head?" Dean asked, running his hair through the boy's strands.

Cas moaned and nuzzled into Dean's hand, the man's blunt nails scratching massaging patterns into his scalp.  "Mmm better," he sighed, and he couldn't help the arousal that entered his tone.  It felt like too long that they had touched like this, and it wasn't even below the neck, let alone the waist.  He quickly shook the feeling off and smiled up at Dean.  "That sounds good."

Dean looked into Castiel's eyes, feeling a pull and like a damn cliché, he opened his mouth the speak, to apologize, but was interrupted by the doctor.

"Good afternoon, Castiel. How are you doing?"  Dr. Hopper stood at the foot of the bed.

Cas just wanted to yell at the doctor to go the fuck away but he knew that he had to be polite.  He had to play this game so that he could get better.  But he desperately wanted to know what Dean was going to say.

He grinned venomously at the doctor, squinting his eyes slightly.  He was being childish, he knew.  But he wanted the doctor to at least guess that he didn't like her.  "I'm feeling much better, thank you," he said, false sunshine and candy dripping from his voice.  "I'm sure once I finish eating I should be better soon."

"Well, I'm glad, but unfortunately, we're going to need to keep you here for a few nights.  It's just standard preceded for someone with the injuries that you have."  If Dr. Hooper noticed Castiel's behaviour, she didn't comment on it.  "We’re about to send you over to get fitted for your cast.  The nurse there will go over the proper care and where you go from there."

Cas nodded his head understandingly and turned back to his food, a little less than a quarter left and colder than before.  

The doctor left and Castiel looked up at Dean again.  He didn't expect him to say anything.  He just wanted to show the man that he would listen to anything he had to say.  He smiled reassuringly at him and then went back to his meal, reaching for the juice.

"A cast, nice," Dean winked, even though they already knew he was getting a cast.  "Think I could be the first to sign it?"

Castiel chuckled warmly at Dean.  "Of course," he said.  "I wouldn't have it any other way."

A few moments later, Meg came in and greeted them.  "All right," she said cheerfully, smiling a both Castiel and then Dean.  "The doc reckons you can start trying to move around now.   Only a little at a time, gotta take it slowly.  So we'll take you to get your cast in a wheelchair instead of in your bed. Sound okay?"

"But Meg," Cas teased.  "You know I have a severe case of laziness."  The nurse laughed, shaking her head at his terrible joke as she started setting up his chair, attaching all necessary machinery to it before telling Castiel he can hop down now.

He managed to get into the chair with some help from Meg and Dean, and he slumped in it, exhausted from the short move.  "When do you think I'll be able to move without stopping for breath?" he joked.

Meg just laughed as she wheeled him out of the room.  "Wait, can Dean come?" His voice was way whinier than he intended and he blushed, but Meg just smiled and said, "Of course!" 

Dean just shook his head in amusement as Castiel tried to joke with the nurse along the way to the room. 

"You're terrible with jokes," Dean mumbled into Castiel's hair after Meg left them in a room, waiting for the nurse.  "But I love you for it."  Dean gave Castiel a quick peak on the lip just as the door opened. Dean pulled away quickly and sat back in the Chair next to Castiel.

"Hi there," a tall, perky brunette greeted them.  "I'm Katie."  Dean nodded and introduced himself.  Katie nodded and then turned to Castiel.  "I'll just get everything set up and then we'll get started."

Cas wanted more than anything to chase the kiss, but it wasn't possible.  Katie was in the room now, fiddling with plaster and bandages and measuring tools.

Once everything was ready, she came over and wheeled Castiel closer to the bench that everything was kept on.  She instructed him to lay his arm out and then she began efficiently encasing his arm in plaster. She asked if he wanted a particular colour, as they had coloured strips of bandage for the younger children, she thought he could use some cheering up.

Without thinking, he immediately said, "Green."  The nurse nodded and left the room to get the coloured fabric.  She returned and applied the colour before telling him how long he needed it on, what date he could have it off, how to scratch underneath it, and how to keep it from smelling like death.  He listened and nodded, and once she was done, she left the room to retrieve Meg.

While they were let alone without any nurses around, Castiel turned to Dean and said with a cheeky smile, "Now this is what you call bondage."  Dean didn't have time to respond as Meg returned and wheeled him back to his room. 

"Whatever you do, Cas, don't look at job in comedy," the man responded, appropriately since Meg was around.  Once Meg and helped Castiel back into his bed, the nurse left, leaving them alone again.

Castiel's arm was resting in a sling against his chest, keeping the arm bent.  It looked uncomfortable, but luckily, the nurse gave them one of the good slings, a dark blue one with Velcro straps and not one of those beige, fabric ones that broke the moment they were tied up.

"So, six weeks," that was how long the nurse told them Castiel would need to keep the cast.  "You're a little restricted; might need to help you with some things," Dean smirk and winked.

Cas squirmed in his bed, hips keeping his ass in place but jolting upward at the mention of "help".  All witty comments he thought he had stopped at that, Dean's voice going straight to Cas' cock.  "I'll take your offer of 'help' later."

Dean's eyes visibly darkened at the tease.  He knew he shouldn’t be feeling aroused, especially since Castiel fell off their fucking roof yesterday.

Slowly he leaned forward.  Their lips were just millimetres apart when Dean's phone vibrated.  "Damn it," he grumbled and pulled out his phone, seeing Sam's name flash across the screen.  "What?" he snapped into the receiver.

Cas actually groaned in frustration when Dean's phone went off, face falling into a sulky frown. He couldn't be blamed –it'd been a little over a week since they'd had meaningful sex and they'd fought, so Cas was aroused to no end by Dean's willingness to look after him.

"Hello to you too, Dean," Sam mocked, throwing back Dean's words from earlier.

"What do you want, Sam?" Dean grumbled, quieter, but still just as irritated.  What was with everyone interrupting them today?

"I'm just calling to let you know that i am on my way," Sam's tone was irritated, matching Dean's.  "I'll be there in about twenty minutes.

Castiel didn't know what made him do it, really.  Just that he was annoyed and he saw an opportunity.  For whatever reason, Cas reached his hand out towards Dean and smoothed it up and down the man's thigh, ghosting over his sharp hip bone and scratching into his jeans.  He peered up at the man on the phone, with his brother, and smirked.

"That g-gre-eat, Sam," Dean tried to sound sarcastic, but his voice raided a pitch and was shocked at the end when he felt fingers slowly brush up his thigh.  He looked down to see Castiel's fingers trail along his leg.  He tried to bat the teenager's hand away, but the boy was persistent.

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice sounded concerned and distant. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I fine," Dean said, trying to keep his voice even, but Castiel, the little bastard, started moving his hand farther up Dean's thigh, causing the man's voice to sound chocked

Castiel may have been vulnerable, but he was not an invalid.  He felt like he needed to thank Dean for looking after him in hospital, and he wasn't sure how to do that other than by feeling the man up.  It was at that point, he realized what he was doing.  This was a hospital and Dean was half hard under Cas' ministrations.  He pulled his hand back as suddenly as he'd begun and folded both his hands in his lap.

Dean wanted to groan in frustration and sigh in relief when Castiel pulled his hand back.  He could vaguely hear his brother talk about how the other boys are questioning him about Castiel before he switch and asked Dean if Castiel needed anything.

"I'll ask," Dean said, acting as if he was listening the whole time and didn't only just hear the last part.  "Cas, do you want Sam to bring you anything?  Pajama bottoms?" Dean suggested.  Considering the boy was only in a pale blue hospital gown and his boxer, they wouldn't supply much warmth.

Cas nodded feverishly.  "Yes please."  The hospital sheets were warm, but when he had to get up to pee or go to another section of the hospital, he found himself with goose bumps.

"Could he bring a book too, please?" he asked quietly.

"What book?" Dean asked before telling Sam it was a 'yes' for the pajama pants.

"The Picture of Dorian Gray," he replied. "It's on my bedside table."

"The book on his side table; did you give that to him?  No one reads besides you."  Dean knew Castiel read, the boy talked about the books he's read, which surprised him when he realized Castiel shared admiration for literature. 

"It's a good book, Dean," Sam defended.  "You should try it."  Dean just scoffed.  "Yeah, sure," Dean dragged out the last part, rolling his eyes.

Cas watched his lover bicker over the phone and the corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk.  The man was infuriatingly stubborn, but he now knew it was because he wanted to look after everyone.  And how could Cas be upset by that? 

"Whatever," Sam said, knowing his brother wasn't about to change his opinion after a simple phone call. "I'll see you in a few minutes."  The line went dead after that and Dean slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Sam'll bring you your book. Know him though; he'll probably bring you more."  Dean pretended to be annoyed, but grinned at the boy, figuring he would enjoy that.

Cas nodded, still gazing at Dean like he was the fucking light of the earth.  He wondered how he was so lucky to still have this; a man willing to stay with him even through the secrecy and shame.  Castiel promised himself that once he got out of this place, he'd never touch another drug again.


	10. Chapter 10

The time waiting for Sam was spent mainly in silence, both makes just enjoying each other’s company.  They mainly held hands; Dean kept an appropriate distance between them so Castiel didn't tease him again.  He didn't know if he could hold back next time.

Sam walked in carrying a blue fabric bag, which he placed at the foot of the bed.  "Hey, Cas. How are you feeling?" the younger Winchester greeted as he emptied the bag, handing Castiel the pajama bottoms. 

Cas grinned politely at Sam.  "I'm better than yesterday," he answered truthfully.  "Thank you for bringing my things."  

He immediately shimmied into his pants under the covers, settling into the bed again as warmth spread through him.  He reached for the book as well, placing it in reach next to his bed so he didn't have to strain.

Dean waited until Castiel was settled back into his bed, which was still propped up, keeping the boy sitting up. 

"I guess if everything is fine, I'll take off," Dean said, as Sam took over his chair.  "I'll be back later tonight."  Dean wanted to lean over and kiss Castie, but he still didn't know where they stood and with Sam there, he didn't know how well his brother would accept the sign of affection, especially when just found out yesterday. 

Castiel blushed Dean's way as the man left, a sheepish grin splitting his face.

It was just Cas and Sam now, and the boy was uncomfortable.  Sam was giving off an air of frustration and hostility.  It was off-putting.  “I know I'm the injured one here," he voiced.  "But are you all right, Sam?"

Sam just looked at Castiel and inhaled deeply.  "I'm fine, Cas."  Sam tried to keep his tone low and even, but too many questions were swimming around his head.   He promised though, for the boy's sake and not Dean’s that he wouldn't bring up what he knew—Dean could tell him.

Cas furrowed his brow slightly, but didn't press the matter.  Instead, he yawned and stretched as much as he could with one arm and the many other injuries he had.  "I'm going to try to rest," he informed Sam, sleepy tones lacing his voice.  "Thank you for being here."

"Sure, Cas.  I'll be here if you need anything."  As soon as Castiel closed his eyes and his breathing evened out, Sam let out a frustrated that he's been holding in since Dean left.  Damn his brother for putting him in this mess.  Now he had to pretend everything was fine for the sake of the boy's health.

Sam sat back in the chair, staring down as the black print.  Castiel just fell asleep and Sam decided to occupy himself with a book he brought for himself.  The silence didn't last long though and soon a quiet whimper came from the bed.  Sam looked up from his book and saw Castiel's lip quiver.  The boy let out another small whimper and tensed up. 

"Cas?" Sam asked, studying the boy for any sign if he had woken. 

"Castiel?"  Castiel let out a small, pleading 'no' and Sam got up from the chair.  "Cas?' He whispered and gently pleaded a hand on the boy's shoulder, who almost jumped at the touch, and yet still managed to stay unconscious.  

Cas laid boneless on what he knew to be sticky carpet, breathing strained.  His chest felt constricted and he couldn't move his limbs.  The stench of copper and sweat filled his nostrils, and the deafening silence pressed into his ear drums.  Blackness shrouded him, sending him into a wave of panic.  It was then he realized his eyes were just firmly shut, and he needed to pry them open.  What he saw was the bloodied face of a man about an inch from Castiel's nose, eyes still open and red dripping from his lips onto the boy's face.

Cas shrieked into lucidity, still pinned by his terror to the hospital bed.  He could hear a cacophony of sounds now: the insistent beeping of his heart rate monitor; panicked voices of nurses and patients alike; his own hoarse screams.  He couldn't move.  People were everywhere, crowding him and pinning him to his bed.  His breath came in short gasps, the throes of a panic attack encapsulating him. He screamed over and over.

Shit, Sam though as Castiel continued to whimper.  of course, this would happen when Dean wasn't here.   He was the closest to Castiel—being in love was pretty high up there; he probably knew how to handle this. 

"Damn it, Dean," Sam grumbled and started to shake Castiel's shoulder when the boy let out a louder noise, almost like a cry of pain.   

Sam was a little pissed that Dean never once mentioned this to him.   After over three months of Castiel under their care, Dean had yet to mention anything about Cas, besides what was written on his files. 

Sam wasn't a stranger to consoling boys after nightmare—usually the younger ones, he's had his fair share of late nights.  This though seemed different like Castiel was remembering something and not just dreaming.

"Come on, Cas, wake up."  Sam shook the boy's shoulder harder, but carefully avoiding moving his head. 

*****

Dean's ride home was quick.  He wanted to hurry back to the hospital, but he also didn't want it to look suspicious since he wasn't too sure if Sam told Kevin.  He couldn't be quick where he was rushing eagerly out of the house, but he didn't want to leave Cas for too long.

Dean made it clear that he wasn't back to stay and luckily the boys stood off.  Most of them had migrated to the living room, starting a game on the X-box or something.   Kevin was there at the front door to greet him, but Dean knew the younger man wouldn't leave the boys. 

"Is it true?" Kevin asked, standing just outside of Dean's room as the man rummaged around picking out new clothes. 

Dean didn't need to ask for clarification, he knew what Kevin was asking.   Sam probably came home angry and ranted to Kevin—Kevin wouldn't have bothered asking if Sam didn't tell him.  Dean gritted his teeth and the door frame of his closet and looked down at the floor.  I guess he told you?" Dean asked in response, which was enough of an answer for Kevin.  "I'm not going to say anything, Dean. Personally, I think you already have enough shit against you, you don't need me adding to it.  Dean turned to face Kevin.  He kept his face emotionless and nodded his head in acknowledgment.  Kevin took it as a 'thanks' and didn't say anything further.  "So how is he actually doing?  Sam said he was it rough shape, but he seemed to be okay when he last talked to you.  Dean just shrugged his shoulders and dropped a plain green shirt and jeans onto the bed.

"He's tired and has some pretty bad injuries, but I think the pain medication is keeping him from feeling anything.  He hasn't been complaining."  Kevin nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but Dean cut him off.  "I'm going to have a shower and then head back; make sure the boys eat."  Dean brushed pass Kevin and crossed over to the bathroom he shared with Sam. 

Dean quickly showered and shaved the day's growth off his face before he dressed in the new clothes and headed downstairs.  Most of the boys were still where Dean had seen them earlier, but Nigel and James were gone--probably in their room.  Kevin was now sitting in the room with them, where Benny and Nick had convinced him to start a game with them.

Dean caught his eye and nodded his head, which Kevin mirrored. Dean left the house without another word to anyone and headed back to the hospital

*****

Castiel managed to open his eyes to the white room around him.  He found it empty except for Sam standing by his bed, worried gaze taking in Cas' twitching figure.  The boy let out a relieved sob and sank into the bed, not the sticky floor, crying.

Cas still couldn't move, paralyzed by the terror he felt while unconscious.  He could turn his head, so he angled towards Sam and sobbed at him, a sloppy thank you said with his eyes.  He'd forgotten that Dean wasn't here, which made him feel sad, but he had someone at least.

Hot tears tracked lines down his cheeks and his lips ached where they were stretched over his teeth.

"Don't leave me there," he suddenly hissed out, voice hoarse and quiet.  "Please, don't make me stay there.  So dark.  All dead. The pain."  He knew he was rambling, knew Sam probably didn't know about his true past, knew his words didn't make a lick of sense, but he kept spilling slurred words out of his mouth.  "Don't make me leave.  I can't leave."

"Cas?  Is everything okay?  You're safe; it's all alright," Sam comfort, trying to give Castiel a reassuring smile.  "Do you want to talk about?"  Sam didn't know if the boy would be willing to talk to him, but he needed to try.  He needed Castiel to realize he was there for him too.

Cas shook his head at first, not wanting to relive the horror.  But as his tears dried and his sobs subsided, he realized he'd been reliving it every night for the past year, so maybe telling Sam would be okay.

He nodded slowly, and warned, "It's a lot to take."  When Sam just nodded for him to continue, he relayed what he had told Dean so many weeks ago.

Sam sat in the chair, silently, listening to Castiel share his story with him.  Sam fought to keep his face impassive, to not reveal his judgment.  

Why didn't Dean tell his this?  He knew that Castiel had told Dean, if he was telling him now, there was no way he would reveal this to him and not Dean, whom he's been in a relationship with since he came to them.  The thought still disturbed Sam and was hard to believe his brother would do that behind his back.

Sam quickly snapped out of his thoughts—it's was Castiel's time and he needed to focus on him.  "How long Cas?" He needed to know, to know if there was something he could do.

"How long what?" Castiel’s voice was hollow.  "How long was I there?  Nearly two years.  How long have the nightmares been happening?  Most night since that night.  Some nights are worse than others."  It was hard to keep the tremble from his voice, but he thought he did well.

He swiped at a few tears that had slid down his cheeks and sniffed.  "I just want it to stop."  This time, he sounded defeated.  And he felt it, too. If he was still seeing the empty faces of the dead from that night while he was drugged up on morphine, he felt there was no hope for him.

"Did you ever think of getting help?   I'm mean; this is something you just can't keep quiet about this."  Sam sighed heavily and though about what Castiel had just admitted.  He was probably the worst case they've ever had.  Many had come from broken homes, drugs and sure, gangs, but no one had ever been around murder.  Why would Dean keep this quiet?

"Why did Dean not say anything—why didn't you say anything?"  The words were out before Sam could stop himself.

Cas stared, slack-jawed at Sam.  It took him a few moments to find his voice, but when he did, it was commanding.  "Well, I'm sorry for simply wanting to forget about that part of my life, Sam," he growled.  "I told Dean only because I had a panic attack and I did not want to lie as to why." 

"Whoa, Cas calm down."  Sam sat back, his tone slightly defencive.  "I didn’t mean anything by it.  I'm just saying it's not healthy to keep it in and suffer.  These things are not easily forgotten."

"Well, now you know," he snapped.  "It's out.  Happy?" He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't help it.  He always got a sense of anxiety and discomfort when thinking about that night.  That year, really.

After a few tense moments, he turned to Sam and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Sam just nodded and stood up from his chair.  "I'm just going to call Dean."  Sam pulled his phone from his shirt pocket and walked out of the room. 

When Sam left the room, Cas brought his free hand up to his face.   He pressed his fingers into his eyes, making colours dance across the black backdrop of his eyelids.  When he removed his hand, the colours stayed for a split second and then dissipated. He felt bad about how he spoke to Sam, but he was still reeling from his nightmare.  All he wanted was for Dean to be here.   

*****

Sam wasn't mad at Castiel, maybe a little irritated, but he understood with the boy was coming from.   He needed to talk to Dean, but he'd prefer if it was before he got back so Castiel couldn't hear what Dean would say.

"Hey, Sammy.   I'm on my way," was how Sam was greeted when his brother answered his car. 

"Why didn't you tell me about Cas?" Sam seethed in a low tone.  There was a long paused, Sam assumed Dean knew what he was talking about. 

"He asked me not to," Dean answered like it was the most obvious thing in the worlds.

 "Damn it, Dean!" He growled, a little too loudly and received an irritated look from a passing nurse.   Normally Sam would apologize, but right now he was too pissed.  He suddenly felt like a stranger in his own house.  Sure, the home was Dean’s, but it was Sam’s job to provide a home for the boys too and to know them so they could help, and suddenly he was just finding out secrets about Castiel that his brother neglected to tell him. 

"I'm his guardian too.  How do you think it looked that one of us knows all this shit about him and one of us doesn't?”

“Technically, you just help out, Sammy,” Dean stated, matter-of-factly.  “You’re just here for the summer.”

“Damn it, Dean,” Sam growled.  Now Dean was just making excuses.  San sighed and ran his free hand over his face, trying to calm himself down.

"Look, Dean,” Sam sighed, “I understand you didn't tell me because Castiel only trusted you with that information, but damn it," Sam paused and ran a hand through his hair.  "That boy needs help.  How the hell is he supposed to function when he's reliving those memories each night?" 

Dean sighed heavily and grumbled something Sam did couldn't understand.  "I know, Sam, but he won't do it." 

"Then try, Dean.  He's going to be eighteen in less than a month and soon he won’t be out responsibility.  Get him help while we can."

"Fine," Dean snapped.  "I'll talk to him.  But I'm not promising anything."

"Fine, but you're doing it today."

"Damn I-I... Fine," Dean sighed and Sam smile victoriously.  "I'll see you when get here."  Sam ended the call and then headed back into Castiel's room.

*****

Castiel read his book for a while, trying to distract himself.  But his eyes swam and the words tangled together so he replaced the book after only two paragraphs.  He decided to settle back into the hospital bed to sleep was probably a good idea, but he didn't want to have another nightmare.  Instead, he took to trying to read all the posters on the walls.  By the time Dean arrived, Cas would have the pattern for proper hand washing memorized.

“Scrub soap into palms with knuckles. Spread between fingers.  Lather up to wrists.  Rinse.”  He could recite it with his eyes closed, and it's been barely five minutes.  Sam still hadn't returned when Meg came in to do his usual checks.

He was in too foul a mood to joke with her, however, and she noticed.  "Something on your mind, Clarence?" She gave him the nickname after he made a reference to _A Wonderful Life_.  It stuck.  

He sighed and shook his head, looking apologetically up at the woman.  She just brushed a sympathetic hand over his shoulder and left.    

When Sam returned, Cas apologized again.  "Sam, I'm sorry about before.  I was just... worked up."  He bit his lip in remorse, upset that he and Sam weren't getting along.  He didn't want to get his hopes up about his and Dean's relationship, but if they were going to be together, Sam would be a big part of their lives, and Cas wanted to be friends. 

"It's fine, Cas," Sam brushed off, "honestly."  Sam leaned back in his chair and stretched our his legs in front of him.  “Dean's on his way.  He should be here soon."

They fell into silence and Sam looked at Castiel, trying to think of something to say. He caught sight if the book in Castiel's lap. "How is the book?"

Castiel glanced at the book, still open on his lap.  He closed it and placed it back on the metal table next to his bed.  "It's okay," he said.  "I'm only half a chapter in so I can't really make a judgment yet."

Silence again.  It was getting ridiculous.  "Sam," he murmured lowly.  "I-I appreciate that you and Dean and Kevin and even the other boys to some extent, have all accepted me without much questioning.  But you need to know that I am also capable of listening."  He wasn't sure where he was going with it, just that he knew Sam was upset about something and he wanted to prove himself.  "S-so if you ever wanted to - I mean, I'm -" He cut himself off, sighed, and tried again.  "If you ever need someone to talk to..."      

Sam smile at what Castiel was offering.  "Thanks, Cas.  We're glad to have you with us.

Cas nodded, glad to have gained Sam's approval.  He let out a yawn, clenching his eyes closed.  As much as he was avoiding nightmares, he was exhausted, which annoyed him, because all he'd done for the last 24 hours was sleep.

"You know," Sam spoke again, studying Castiel as the boy looked at the wall behind the man.  "You're good for him."  

Castiel turned in shock, looking like he was trying to figure out if Sam really meant what he was thinking.   

"He hasn't been this happy in a while.  I know he loves this job...he doesn't really look at as a job.  But when you came...he was different.  He smiled more.  Of course, he didn't do it when he knew I was around, but I saw."  Sam smiled at Castiel's shocked face.  He still wasn't completely fine with the idea of Castiel and Dean being together like that, but Dean was happy, so he would accept it.  "You make him happy."

Cas stared at Sam in shock for the second time in less than half an hour.  He knew.  Had they not been careful enough?  Were they seen?  Heard?  He had to force himself to blink, swallowing thickly.

"Sam, I-" He was cut off by Dean appearing in the room.  The boy looked up at Dean and then back to Sam, alternating his gaze between the two of them.  "Dean," he let out weakly.

Sam turned to the door and saw a fresh dean.  "Hey, Cas," Dean smiled.  He wanted nothing more than to go up and kiss Castiel, but he figured his brother was still not ready for that.

"I-I don't -" He cut himself off again, noticing that Dean wasn't worried.  Did he know that Sam knew?  It was all too much.  Cas stared at the wall in front of him, frowning and mouth agape as he tried to wrap his head around this cluster-fuck.

"How are you feel?" Dean noticed Castiel's confused look but figured it formed something Sam said.  He didn't want to say anything about the nightmares in case Castiel didn't want him to know.  The boy was pretty protective over who knew what.

"I'm-I'm good," he managed to get out after a ridiculously long and tense pause.  God, the Winchester brothers would be the death of him.

"Of course you are," Dean smirked and then boldly placed a kiss to Castiel's forehead, feeling Castile stiffen under his touch.  Sam cleared his throat but didn't voice any protest.  Dean just rolled his eyes and gently nudged Castiel's legs so he could sit on the bed.

Castiel glanced over at Sam as soon as Dean pulled away.   The man seemed annoyed, but not mad.  What was going on here?  If Castiel thought he couldn't sleep before, tonight was going to be one hell of an all-nighter.

"So what were you two up to?"  Dean knew what, Sam had told him on the phone, but he wasn't sure if Castiel wanted him to know.  The boy had started to hide his suffering from him.  He would wake up early in the morning to Castiel curled up, but every time Dean asked, Castiel would brush it off.

"Um," the boy stammered out.  "I-I got some more rest."  He would tell Dean about his nightmare once Sam had left, wanting to seek comfort in Dean.  He fiddled with his sling, pulling at a stray strand that was tickling his thumb.

"So Sammy here wasn't a corrupting influence on you?"  Dean teased and his brother just rolled his eyes.

"Really, Dean?  You were gone for four hours."   Dean just smirked and reached over to take Castiel's free hand, being careful to avoid the IV needle.

Castiel widened his eyes at Dean.  He was doing this is front of Sam.  He knew that Sam knew.  And neither of them were freaking out.  But Castiel was.

"Wh-what's going on?" he finally managed.  "How-how did you f-find out that..."  He frowned over at Sam questioningly, letting Dean continue holding his hand.    

Sam and Dean both looked at the boy and then shared a look.  They understood what the boy meant.

"It wasn't hard to figure out," Sam spoke, looking to Castiel and then Dean.  "Dean was a mess when you were taken here."

Dean made a nosiness of protest, but didn't speak.  Instead, he glared at his brother, which Sam just ignored.  "You two also acted differently around each other at home, which was more noticeable when you had to be around the others.  I had my suspicions for a while and yesterday was just confirming them."

"And you're not - are you m-mad?"  Castiel was shaking now.  They'd tried for so long to hide what they had and it all came out over something stupid that Castiel did.  Would Sam kick him out now?  Would he ever see Dean again?  He tried to tighten his fingers around Dean's, as that thought invaded his mind, but the needle prevented from putting more than a slight curve in his fingers. 

Sam remained silent for a moment, as he was contemplating the meaning of Castiel's words.  Dean just lightly ran his fingers up and down Castiel's hand.  

Sam watched the act and then answered.  "I'm not sure, Cas," he spoke, looking down at his brother's hand connected with the boy's.  "Honesty, I'm not pleased with it.  But..." Sam cut off and then shrugged, "it's already happened."

Cas nodded, gulping back the lump in his throat and breathing out slowly.  "Thank you, Sam."  He said the words before biting his trembling lip.  It was all too much.  He wasn't sure if he was happy or scared, but Dean’s grip on his hand seemed to help. 

"Sam won't say anything," Dean spoke up, but Sam didn't reply. He just looked at the two on the bed and then at his watch.

"I guess I should head back," Sam announced, looking back up at the two.  "I probably shouldn't keep Kevin alone with the boys for too long."

"Yeah, see ya, Sammy," Dean rushed and Sam just rolled his eye. 

"Really, Dean?  You couldn't wait until I was gone?"  

The older man just shrugged and smirked at his brother. "See you later," and with that, Sam was walking out of the room.

Mere seconds after Sam had left, Cas was shifting forward, reaching for Dean where he sat at the edge of his bed.  He pulled his hand from Dean's hand and instead twined them into the front of Dean's shirt, tugging the man forward and roughly kissing his mouth.  It was all teeth and tongue, but Cas didn't care.  His lover was with him.  He was warm and solid and grunting into Cas' mouth and Cas could cry from happiness. Sam knew, and it was okay.

Dean placed a hand on the bed for support, leaning over Castiel, and cupped the boy’s cheek with his other.  He knew they shouldn't be doing this, in a hospital and with Cas still injured, but it had been a while since they kissed like this—with so much passion.  Dean let a low growl escape his chest and he nipped lightly at the boy's lip.

Cas mewled in response to Dean's growl, whining against his lips and melting.  His shoulders slumped and the rest of his body relaxed.  He pulled away, mattress shoving gently at Dean's chest to part their lips. 

He relaxed against the bed, letting his body slump into the cushion behind him.  It may not have been the smartest idea to move, considering his back was now throbbing, but he would gladly accept it after that kiss with Dean.

"Dean, I thought that was it," he mumbled.  "I thought Sam would kick me out."  He pressed his forehead to Dean's and breathed heavily.  "I thought I wouldn't be allowed to see you."

"Trust me, Cas, I would have been the one in trouble."  Dean closed his eyes and let Castiel's breath tickle his face.  "Sammy's a good kid and wouldn't have done that to you."

Cas smiled, astounded by their good fortune, and kissed Dean's freckled nose.  He pulled his good arm free from where it was trapped between their chests and coiled it around Dean's shoulders.  He licked his lips and pulled back, expression serious now.  "I had a nightmare," he whispered.  "A bad one.  Sam had to wake me." 

"Did you talk to Sam?" Dean asked, even though he knew the answer.  He just wanted to see if Castiel was okay talking about this with him or if it was strictly meant to be kept between them and talking to Sam was just because he wasn't there.

Cas nodded shakily.  "I told him everything," he murmured.  "He deserved to know."  Cas proceeded to tell Dean what happened in the nightmare, how it was more a memory than a dream, the empty eyes above him, the pressing silence.  When he finished, he realized hot tears were sliding down his cheeks, and it was all he could do to keep himself from sobbing.    

"Cas, you need to tell someone—not someone like me or Sammy, someone who can help you."  Dean pulled back so he was sat upright, but he combed a hand through Castiel's hair, gently massaging the crown of his head. 

Cas leaned into Dean's touch, grateful for the contact.  He nodded sorrowfully, sniffling and taking deep breaths.  "I know," he whimpered out.  "But... I don't want to do it alone."

"You won't be alone.  I'll be there for you and I know Sammy will be.  And Kevin won't just stand by, the guy’s taken to you becoming his 'cooking buddy' as he put it.”  Dean smiled at the boy, letting the love he felt for Castiel show.  "You’re not alone anymore, Cas."

Cas smiled shakily at the fondness that grew in his chest.  As soon as Dean told him he wasn't alone, the boy let himself cry.  He cried freely, happily, glad that he had finally found some acceptance.  He hoped Dean didn't think he was upset.  

"You cry too much," Dean commented, but he was smiling down at the boy.  Dean leaned over and pecked Castiel's lips.  "I love you," he whispered and pulled back.

Cas laughed when Dean teased him and whimpered softly when he kissed him.  He wanted so badly to repeat Dean's words back to him, but his attention was pulled to the doorway.

There was a soft knock on the door and Dean looked over and saw a petite older woman, wearing a hairnet and dark blue scrubs, standing at the door.  She was obviously from the food services and Dean looked down at his watch to see it was just going on to six. 

"Good evening, Castiel," she greeted and moved into the room with a tray of food in her hands.  

Castiel quickly wiped his eyes and murmured a hoarse, "hi," back to her

She placed it on the larger tray with wheels by Castiel's bed and adjusted it so it was more appropriate for Castiel.

Once she placed the food down, he thanked her, hoping he wasn't making her uncomfortable by crying.

The lady just said a soft 'enjoy' and then left the room.  Dean moved off the bed and back into the chair so he wasn't in the way of Castiel's tray.

Castiel wasn't hungry, but he knew Dean would pitch a fit if he didn't at least try to eat.  He lifted the coverings off of the meal, revealing hot pasta with broccoli on the side.  He scrunched his nose at it, not feeling like chewing.  He lifted his fork tentatively, poking at the greenery but not doing much else. 

"Is everything all right?" Dean asked when he noticed Castiel only pick around with his food.  He knew they boy probably didn't have much of an appetite with the combination with his injuries, but starving himself wasn't an answer either.

"Hm?" He glanced up at Dean.  "Oh, yes.  It's just - I..." He let out a sigh.  "The idea of chewing is exhausting."  He speared a broccoli anyway, trying to appease Dean, and placed it into his mouth.  He chewed twice before scrunching his face up and looking around for somewhere to spit. 

"Do you want me to go and get you something else, like yogurt," Dean offered as Castiel tried to take another bite of his dinner.

Cas managed to chew and swallow the broccoli, but he didn't want to try that again.  "No, no," he assured Dean once he swallowed.  "It's fine."  This time, he curled the pasta around his fork and slurped it up carefully.  This was much easier to stomach and he gladly continued eating.  

Dean shrugged watched Castiel eat the food.  In his opinion, the dinner didn't look that appetizing, yet it was hospital food—it wasn't supposed to.

Once most of the sticky pasta had been eaten, Cas shoved at the metal table, not able to stomach another bite.

"That was... Interesting," he muttered, trying to be tactful.  He looked at Dean, who was staring with a disgusted look on his face.  "It wasn't that bad, Dean."

"Do you want me to go get you ice cream or something?  You need something wash that down."  Dean looked that the dish with some pasta left over and gave it a scrutinizing look.

"No, no, it's fine," the boy protested.  "It's just... I miss Kevin's cooking."  He shrugged and then reached for the water jug that the staff changed every day.  It was farther away than he thought and he managed to knock it onto the floor.  "Shit. Sorry." He sighed in frustration.  He just wanted the independence of doing things himself, which wasn't possible if he knocked over everything he touched.

"It's fine, Cas."  Dean picked up the jug and placed it on the plastic tray.  "I'll just go and get some paper towels."  

Dean left the room and was back a few moments later.  He quickly mopped up the water and left to dispose of the wet towels.

"Do you want me to get you some water?" Dean offered, nodding towards the now-empty jug.

"Yes, please." Cas was staring at his lap, embarrassment flushing his cheeks.  He didn't want to make Dean do everything for him, but it seemed like it was the only option until he got better.   He forgot about the needle in his hand, preventing him from properly using it. And his other arm wasn’t an option either.  So, asking Dean was the only option.  But, it didn't mean he had to feel good about it.

Dean took the jug and left the room, finding a fountain to fill it up.  When he came back, he filled Cas' cup and handed it to the boy.

"Don’t be ashamed of asking for help, Cas," Dean said when he noticed that Castiel was still a little flushed.  "I'm here to help you.  I don't want you to feel ashamed."

Cas huffed a little, but thanked Dean and sipped at his water carefully.  Holding the cup was a little awkward since he couldn’t actually grip the cup, but he managed.

"I just feel useless," he muttered.  "I don't want to be a burden."

"Cas," Dean's tone was disapproving.  He didn't like that the boy was being too hard on himself, after all, he just had surgery.

 Around eight a nurse came around to kick Dean out, declaring that visiting hours were over.  Luckily, for Dean, he was able to claim that he had to stay with Cas.  He didnt want to leave Castiel alone tonight, partly because he was selfish and didn't want to be stuck in a house with Kevin and Sam right now.

Even though the boy was barely a minor and about to turn eighteen in less than a month, the nurse allowed it. 

The nurse showed Dean how the plastic chair he was sitting in lengthened into a bed.  The chair-no bed was a little short for Dean, but he’d suck it up for Castiel. 

The nurse left and returned a few minutes later with a blanket and a pillow for Dean.  She also explained how a nurse would be by a little later to check up of Castiel and to make sure everything was okay.

Cas had never been more thankful to still be 17.  He didn't know how he'd feel if Dean had been made to go home.  He was worried, however.

He waited until the nurse was gone before speaking to Dean.  He looked down at the blanket, not meeting Dean’s eyes.  "Dean," he murmured fearfully. "What if I have another nightmare?  

"You'll be fine, Cas.  Just remember: I’ll be right here, so wake me up if you need to talk.”  Dean smiled, but it dropped as soon as he saw Castiel’s still worried look.

“Look,” Dean sighed, “just think of it as those nights back at the house when we had to be careful because of Sam."  Dean offered Castiel an apologetic smile and stroked his fingers through the boy's hair.  "I'll stay up with you as long as I can and I'll right here if you wake up."

Cas nodded and grinned back at the man, cheeks quivering slightly.  "I love you, Dean," he said quickly, not sure when he would be able to express it again.  "W-will you stay next to me until I fall asleep?"

"Sure," Dean said and moved the bed a little closer.  "You should try and sleep soon.  You had and exhausting day and you need to rest."  It was only nine, but dark circles were already appearing under Cas' eyes.

Cas nodded again and settled into his pillows.  He pulled Dean's hand up and hugged it to his chest.   After pressing a kiss to his knuckles, the boy whispered, "goodnight, Dean," and shut his eyes, humming contentedly.  


	11. Chapter 11

Dean woke up tired and stiff. It was now the fifth day since Castiel had been admitted to the hospital, and Dean had slept on the same chair every night. He now missed his own mattress and the comfort of his own home, but he would suck it up, for Cas.

He was getting better. A few times the morphine had run low and Castiel started to hurt or his back and ribs were, but he was staying strong. His concussion wasn't a serious as they first thought, so luckily he didn't need to be woken up every few hours.

It was still dark out and raining too; outside matched Dean's mood perfectly. "Fuck," he groaned when he sat up on the chair and the back of his neck seized up. He got up from the chair and stretched his arms over his head, popping his shoulders.

It was just a little after seven a.m., which was about the time Dean always woke up and would just watch Castiel sleep for a few minutes. A few nurses had a problem with his being there so early and would glare or grumble. However, other nurses thought it was sweet.

Dean looked over at Castiel, who was still asleep. Dean decided it was a good opportunity to just walk around for a bit to stretch out his legs. The chair wasn't long enough; Dean's legs had been suffering by hanging over the edge each night.

*****

Cas was feeling the same as Dean; he was sick of hospital beds. He chucked a tantrum at one point, which Dean wasn't too pleased about, but he comforted the boy anyway. Cas apologized, of course, but he couldn't help feeling so frustrated. He didn't even really care about the pain—it was just something he had to put up with, but the discomfort of the rigid bed was his biggest annoyance.

Dean was there to put up with it all: the occasional nightmare, the diminishing medication, the flirty nurses—everything. Not once did he complain. It made Castiel feel a surge of pride, but also guilt that he was being so petulant.

It was raining. The firm splatter of raindrops was soothing, a drum beat that was making Cas sleepy even after the solid seven hours he'd rested the night before. It was a new record. For his time in the hospital, he'd had a maximum of three hours a night. But he never woke Dean up, and Dean would always get a little irritated with that decision. He would be pleased to hear this, though.

*****

Dean walked around the floor for about ten minutes, before he decided to head back to Castiel. It was still very early; most of the nurses were at the desk and not walking around to check on the patients, so the floor was quiet.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, slightly surprised to see the boy was actually up at this time as he walked back into the room. "How are you feeling today?"

The boy smiled at his lover, grin so wide it hurt his cheeks. He was pleased. "Dean, I slept for seven hours," he intoned enthusiastically. Maybe it was a lame thing to get excited about, but it meant that Castiel was getting better, so he was happy to share his excitement.

"That's great," Dean said, sharing in the boy's excitement. Dean took a seat in the chair that both males have now considered it as Dean's. "You look good."

A flash of pride entered the boy's body and he sat up a little straighter. "Thanks. How did you sleep?" Cas' question was frantic but sincere. Castiel didn't want Dean to be at a disadvantage just because Castiel had to stay here.

"Fine," Dean brushed off, even though his neck felt like there was a giant knot in it. "Maybe the nurse will tell you if you can leave soon," Dean suggested, changing the subject. The truth was he wanted out of this place, but he wouldn't complain around Cas, that was what private phone calls to Sam were for. He's only left Cas for no more than an hour each day and that was just to run home to change clothes and shower and to get out of there, but he would never tell Castiel that.

"I hope it's soon," Cas grumbled. "I'm sick of the too-clean smell." He grinned up at Dean at that, hoping he lightened the mood. "Why don't you join me?" he ventured. "There's still an hour until breakfast. And I miss holding you." He blushed after his words, only slightly embarrassed.

Dean wanted to protest. He wanted to say it was best to give Castiel his space, but being the selfish bastard that he is, he smiled and moved to the bed. He shifted himself carefully so he didn't bump the IV tube attached to Castiel's hand or bump his injured arm.

"I missed you too," he mumbled when he found a comfortable position.

Cas sighed happily and nuzzled into Dean's neck. "Finally," he murmured against the hot skin. He could feel goose bumps rising against his lips from where his breath had ghosted over Dean's throat. He pressed a tentative kiss there and hummed against Dean's warmth. God, he had missed this.

Dean smiled and ran a hand up and down Castiel's back, feeling the warm skin exposed from the open back of the gown. "You've been too far, Cas," Dean replied as Castiel placed a soft kiss to his jaw.

Cas trembled at the feeling of callused fingers traversing the knobs of his spine. He was hopped up on morphine, but it obviously wasn't enough to quell his arousal. He shifted his hips away, not wanting Dean to think he got off on the pain. He was just glad for the man's proximity. But he knew now was neither the time nor place. They'd figure it out when Castiel was released.

"Cas," Dean spoke quietly, letting the patter of the rain fill the silence. "I'm sorry." It had been almost six days since Dean has been trying to apologize to the boy. He was either interrupted or just didn't feel like it was the appropriate time, yet when is it ever the right time to say you're 'sorry'? "I'm sorry for everything."

Cas froze when he heard Dean's apology. Dean was actually apologizing. He didn't need to, at all, but he was... he was actually saying the words.

Cas lifted his head from Dean's shoulder, twisting to catch his eyes. "D-don't," he stammered. "You don't need to say that. I was in the wrong."

"No, you weren't," Dean said, shaking his head. "I was a prick. I was using you and pushing you away when things didn't go right. I am in this relationship just as much as you are; I shouldn't have been putting all the blame on you." Saying this was hard, Dean rarely apologized and for him to admit he was wrong was his way of proving to Castiel that he wanted this relationship.

Cas laid in the bed silently. He didn't have the words. He just stared into the never ending green and blinked slowly. He nodded his head gently, letting out a small "uh huh" before pressing his lips to Dean's.

The man had apologized. Castiel was ecstatic. He pressed himself up against Dean, trying to bring them closer since his hand prevented him from pulling Dean closer.

Dean was taken by surprised by Castiel's reaction. Dean carefully placed his left hand on Castiel's shoulder to help support him so he wasn't putting all his weight on his bad arm. Dean kissed him back just as eagerly, careful to not push too much.

Castiel groaned into Dean's mouth, shifting as close to the man as possible. They were connected from shoulder to hip to knee and it still wasn't enough for Cas.

The angle strained Cas' neck and his ribs were sore from pressing against Dean, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His lover was in his bed with him and he'd just said a bunch of words Castiel never thought he'd ever hear. He whimpered gently as Dean shifted into him, rubbing his half hard cock briefly with his hip.

Cas shifted his own hips away again, trying to refrain from losing his control. Dean was warm and solid against him, and it was slightly arousing. But he knew that they couldn't do anything here, as much as it was a fantasy of Cas'.

Dean was struggling and he knew Castiel was too. "Cas," he growled when Castiel shifted his hips again, trying to move away, but caused a moment of friction between them. "If you don't keep still I'm not going to be able to control myself." This was the last place Dean wanted to have sex with Cas... under different circumstance, it might have been tempting.

"Mmmm so it's not just me," the boy groaned. "Thank God." He searched for Dean's lips with his own, and crushed them together once he found them. This time, he rolled his hips forward, scraping his cock up Dean's thigh, knowing that Dean was feeling this too made Cas feel better.

"Cas," Dean growled, hating how his voice betrayed him. His own cock stiffened and his hips rubbed against Castiel's thigh. "We can't be doing this," he warned, but his voice came out as a moan.

"In case you haven't noticed," Cas growled. "We're experts at sneaking around." He latched his teeth to Dean's collarbone, which he could reach because he was able to pull Dean's shirt down far enough that his tattoo was showing. He kissed that too.

"All those times, you weren't hooked up to a heart monitor," Dean chided, but his voice broke off when Castiel scraped his teeth over his tattoo.

Luckily, he was spot on with his timing and had just settled into the chair just as a nurse walked in to check up on Castiel. However, when she saw he was sleeping, she just checked his IV and nodded to Dean before walking out.

A lady came in a few minutes after the nurse, carrying a tray with Castiel's breakfast. She smiled at Dean and placed the food on the wheel tray.

"I'll just leave this here," She explained nodding to Castiel's sleeping form. Dean just nodded and thanked her as she walked out of the room.

*****

Castiel was floating. Ephemeral. But he was also pinned between two forces. A heavy weight was resting atop him, cutting off his airways. He gulped in air, gasping for breath, and inhaled liquid. He peeled his eyes open, confused, and was greeted by the image of Dean's bloodstained face, inches above him. He tried to scream, but he didn't have enough air for it. He choked and spat up blood, scattering it over Dean's face.

The green eyes he loved so dearly were dull, empty of all emotion. It made Cas' stomach twist in despair. He tried to bring his hands up to cup his lover's face, but his arms were pinned. He sobbed brokenly, a gasp jolting him from his nightmare. He was sobbing loudly into the hospital room too. He whipped his head around, trying to find Dean.

"Dean!" he whimpered. It was nearly a shout.

Dean's head shot up from its position on the mattress. He figured he must have fallen asleep at some point. Dean was awake and aware of moments and had his hand holding down Castiel's good shoulder.

"Cas, shh. Baby, I'm right here. Everything is all right," the man tried to sooth, raising his other hand to Castiel's face.

Cas slumped back into the bed as soon as he saw Dean was okay. He brought up his good arm to cover his streaming eyes. His soft cries didn't stop, but he needed to tell Dean what had happened. He didn't understand yet.

"D-dean, you were—you were dead." A fresh wave of sobs took over his breathing as he said the words, chest heaving. He shook his head over and over, trying to clear the image from his brain.

Dean frowned at Castiel, a smirk spread across his face. "Well, I'm not. You can't get rid of me that easily." He knew Castiel just wanted to forget and that's what Dean intended to do.

Cas just nodded, accepting Dean's words as comfort. "C-can you c-come here?" the boy whimpered. "Please?" He'd missed breakfast, it looked like, as the tray was sitting still covered on the table next to the bed. He didn't care. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted Dean.

Dean just nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He shifted himself so he could look down at Castiel.

Cas shifted so he was on his side, curled around Dean's body, his face resting against the man's chest. "I want to go home," he whined, sniffing gently.

"I know, Cas." Dean wanted to leave too, but he wouldn't dare say that in front of Castiel. He didn't want the kid to feel like he was keeping him here. "Maybe the doctor will tell you good news today."

Cas groaned. "I doubt it." He had stopped crying enough that his voice held some semblance of steadiness. "When you went home for a shower yesterday, the doctor said my concussion was still kind of there and my ribs were restricting my breathing. They don't want me to move much."

"Cas!" Dean groaned. If Castiel was still in pain then he should have been relaxing, not begging for fucking sex. However, Dean knew he wasn't any better. He was the adult; he should have had more restraint.

Cas pulled back. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. "I just missed you." He bit his lip, keeping it from trembling. He didn't want Dean to be mad at him.

Dean sighed; there wasn't really anything they could do about it now. "We're not doing that again, not until you're healed completely," Dean said sternly.

Cas pouted, but reassured Dean that they wouldn't. He pressed a kiss to Dean's thigh and then nuzzled it. If they weren't going to have sex, then the boy was damn well going to tease the fuck out of Dean.

"I thought you said you weren't supposed to move," Dean chided as Castiel moved closer. But, he didn't push the boy away

Cas chuckled at Dean's concern. "I think they meant walking around," he explained. "I want to be comfortable." He shuffled as close as he could, rubbing like a cat over Dean's chest and shoulder. "You're warm."

"I know what you're doing," Dean warned, gripping the boy's shoulder. He pushed the boy back slightly.

Cas pouted jokingly but pressed his face to Dean's side. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dean," he intoned sarcastically. Sighing, he pulled back, moving to settle against his pillows once more. "You're no fun."

"I would be more fun," Dean rebuked, "if you weren't testing my limits." He gave Castiel a judging face, but quickly broke out into a grin.

Cas giggled and was about to open his mouth again when Meg came in to check his machines and cables.

"Hey, kiddo," she greeted cheerfully. "Feeling any better today?" Cas nodded and smiled at her.

Meg was quickly becoming his favourite nurse, and boy, did she know it.

"No breakfast, Clarence?" she questioned, with a frown thrown to the untouched tray. Cas just shrugged and blushed with embarrassment.

"It'll be cold now. I'll bring you some tea and a biscuit. First, though, got to check your blood pressure."

Cas sat up and let Meg check him over, laughing at her jokes and blushing when she raised an eyebrow at his stained gown. She said she'd bring a new one without him even having to ask.

Dean sat silently as Meg checked on Castiel. He personally didn't like the nurse. She was too friendly with Cas and her voice was to sweet. It gave the feeling like it was rotting your teeth every time she spoke, like a phony person. But, she made Castiel happy—a little too happy, but he would hold his tongue for him.

On Meg's way out, she said, "Oh, and the doctor will be doing her rounds at about lunch time, so you should see her then." With that, she was gone.

Cas looked over at Dean, a smile plastered on his face. The older man had a sour look. "What?" the boy asked, worried a little.

It took a few seconds, but Cas caught it. "You're jealous." It wasn't a question. Cas knew Dean didn't like Meg. Knew it the second she walked in the door. He didn't realize he saw her as competition.

Dean just narrowed his eyes at Cas' accusation. But he didn't say anything in response. He wouldn't justify it with an answer.

"Dean," Cas soothed, voice gentler. "You know I'm one hundred percent gay, right? And besides that, I have you." He reached over and touched Dean's arm with merely the tips of his fingers. "I don't need anyone else. I don't want anyone else. It's just you."

"It's not you that I don't trust; it's her," Dean grumbled, glaring at the door where the nurse had just left.

Cas grumbled a laugh. "She's a nurse, Dean, it'd be unprofessional of her to be even remotely interested. Plus, I'm too young for her."

"Well she doesn't have to keep touching you," was Dean's petulant answer.

"It's her job, Dean, she's meant to check my wounds." Cas laughed at the sour look on Dean's face but inched his hand toward the man's. "Come here. I'll let you lay claim to me," he teased, waggling an eyebrow.

A rush of arousal went straight to Dean's groin and the man had to struggle to not act on his impulses. "Don't be a tease."

Cas laughed. "I just meant kissing," he teased. "But you do what you wish, lover." He hooked his fingers on the man's sleeve. "Please? Just a kiss?"

"Just a kiss," Dean agreed and closed the distance from the chair to the bed. He cupped Castiel's face and claimed his lips in a passionate kiss.

Cas hummed against Dean's lips and pulled him close by his shirt. They broke apart slowly, lips tacky and breath mingling. Cas nudged Dean's nose with his own and pecked him once more. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Dean asked, looking over at the tray of cold food, changing the subject.

Cas shook his head. "I'm not hungry," he reassured. "And Meg said she's bringing tea."

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was stupid, but he couldn't help but feel inadequate to the nurse. Right now, she was the one who could do things for Cas, not Dean.

"Oh, right," Dean mumbled.

"Dean," Cas reprimanded. "If I get out of hospital soon, you can bring me all the food you want. Right now, let the woman do her job. Okay?" He reached out and touched Dean's knee with his fingertips.

Dean just rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, Cas." Dean just released a heavy breath and ran a hand over his face. "Sorry."

Cas frowned, troubled by Dean's reaction. "I can ask for another nurse," he said quietly. "If that's what you'd like."

"It's fine, Cas," Dean brushed off. "I just wish there was more I could do for—your birthday is coming up," Dean cut himself off, changing the subject. "Less than a month until you turn eighteen."

Cas frowned at Dean's redirection, but humoured him. He nodded and smiled sadly. "I hope I'm not still here for it," he muttered. Birthday in a hospital? Not exactly a fun time.

"Well, I'm not guaranteeing you'll be healed, but I highly doubt you'll be stuck in the hospital for a month."  Dean smirked and reached out, stroking Castiel's arm.

Cas smiled weakly at Dean, blushing at the touch. It was that moment that Meg came back with a steaming plastic mug of tea and a couple of plain biscuits.

When Meg came back Dean smiled and bit his tongue. He honestly didn't know why he didn't like her, he just felt defencive around her. But, for Castiel's sake, he smiled at Meg.

"There you go, kiddo," Meg said as she placed them on the boy's table. "Make sure you finish that. Don't want to have to feed you through a tube." She winked as she left and Cas laughed.

Dean was silent and kept his face blank when she winked at Cas. Just because his face was impassive didn't mean he wasn't fuming on the inside. Why did she bother him so much?

Cas sipped at his tea, oblivious to Dean's efforts. It was a bit too hot, and he flinched, but he found that dipping his biscuit into the heat made it soft enough that chewing wouldn't hurt his head.

"I feel like an old woman," he joked, dipping his biscuit back into the steaming liquid.

"Well you're already falling asleep on me at six, so you're halfway there, sweetheart," Dean teased, as Castiel took another bite of his biscuit.

Cas blushed at the pet name and continued eating. He tipped the remainder of his tea down his throat once it was cool enough and settled into his pillows. "Speaking of sleep," he yawned. "I'm full and warm and ready to nap."

"Two naps and it's not even noon," Dean teased, looking at his watch. "Damn, maybe you are turning into an old woman." Dean tilted his head and smirked. "Hell, you'll a perfect match for Sammy now."

Cas just hummed and shut his eyes. "Hmm get over here, asshole," he murmured sleepily. "My toes are cold."

"I'm not a personal foot-warmer, Cas," Dean complained, but complied. He sat on the edge of the bed. "So, what? Do you want me to sit on them?" he asked jokingly.

Cas scoffed, but it quickly turned into a whine. "You make terrible jokes," he complained. Making grabby hands, he added, "Are hugs off limits?" He knew how much Dean hated the term "cuddling" so he avoided it like the plague.

"Really, Cas?" Dean groaned. "Hugs?" Dean just shook his head, but laid back and held his arms open. "One time offer."

"You and I both know that's a dirty lie, Winchester," Cas mumbled as he rolled into Dean's arms. He immediately pressed his toes to the insides of Dean's calves, the warm skin and denim heating the boy's extremities.

Castiel pressed a kiss to Dean's neck and tried to keep his free hand between their warm bodies without jostling the needle in his hand too much. "Thanks," he murmured quickly against the warm skin of Dean's throat.

Dean was ready to make a snarky retort, but it died on his lips as soon as the boy curled closer to him.

"You're just lucky you're cute," Dean responded. He needed to say something, to warn Castiel, though Castiel and he knew it was a weak insult and completely true.

Castiel turned his face up, staring at the three-day-old stubble on Dean's cheeks. "Will you be here when I wake up?" He knew it was cheesy, and whiny, but Cas didn't want to be alone if he had another nightmare. Dean was his safety blanket. And that had to stop, eventually, but he thought he deserved the comfort while he was injured.

"Depends if you can keep my attention," Dean teased, but placed a soft kiss to the boy's hair. "I'll be here," Dean confirmed and let Castiel nuzzle closer to him. Sure he loved their intimate times, but this was also another one of his favourite things, to just get to be this close to the boy. He would never admit such a thing to anyone, and he would be damn sure that it stayed that way.

Something swelled in Cas' chest, and it stopped him from drifting off. Maybe it was his lungs? After a few minutes of fretting and wondering if it was something else to add to the list of injuries, he realized it was happiness. He grinned against Dean's collarbone and finally fell asleep.

Dean stayed with Castiel the whole time. Dean was bored just staring at the ceiling with nothing to do and someone curled to his side, preventing him from moving away. But, he was willing to do that for Cas, if it was going to make him happy.

The dark clouds outside were still casting an eerie grey glow in the room. It was turning out to be a miserable day.

*****

Cas didn't dream. His sleep was full and restful. Waking up next to Dean, still curled around him made that bubble of joy swell in him again. Castiel breathed in deeply, stretching as much as Dean's arms and his injuries would allow.

"Mmmm... do I really sleep that often?" he slurred toward the vicinity of Dean's ears.

Dean was counting the tiny white tiles on the ceiling when he hears Castiel's raspy voice. He chuckled at his question and angled his head so he could look down at the boy. "Lately," he answered and carefully moved Castiel off of him so he could sit up on the bed.

Dean then repositioned Castiel to his side; he arm numb from the boy sleeping on it. "You're injured though. I'd be surprised if you didn't sleep."

Cas let Dean manhandle him before nuzzling back into his neck. "Yeah, but I'm missing the view," he flirted, smoothing his good hand over Dean's chest. He kept rubbing, feeling every contour, every breath that raised the man's pecs, every heartbeat.

"You need rest," Dean corrected, placing his hand over Castiel's fingers, keeping the boy's hand still.

"I can rest later," Cas whined. "You're here now, all... warm and sexy." He mouthed at Dean's jaw. "It's not fair."

"Cas, I am here with you all the time," Dean deadpanned, shaking his head.

"Which isn't fair on you," Cas countered. "You're stuck here with a cripple when you could be working on your car or hanging out with your brother or... spending time with the other boys." Cas couldn't help the surge of guilt that suddenly washed through him. Dean was stuck here because of him.

"Cas, I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to. Trust me; I could get Sammy or Kevin here if I wanted to." Dean liked being here—well not being in the hospital, but being with Cas. Sam even called the other day, offering to stay with Cas for a day or two to give Dean a break. Dean, of course, declined the offer.

Cas shifted and hid his face against Dean's shirt. "All I do is sleep and cry," he slurred, muffled against the cotton.

"I like having this time with you, Cas." Dean could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it, not wanting to disturb their position.

Cas balked at the vibrations. "Is that your phone, or do you just really enjoy our time together?" he teased.

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "Fuck, Cas, don't look for a job in comedy. You suck," Dean teased.

Cas just laughed. "You're not much better," he teased back. When Dean still didn't answer his phone, Cas nuzzled into his neck and settled, counting each drumbeat of the man's pulse.

"Fuck, Cas, you really know how to boost a man's ego," Dean said with another eye roll. "Remind me why I stick with you."

"Because I'm really good at uhh... boosting your ego," Castiel said with a sly smile and tried sliding his hand lower, reaching the waistband of Dean's jeans and gently hooked his fingers in a belt loop, tugging and teasing.

Dean grabbed Castiel's hand before it could go any further. "What did we agree to, Cas?" Though Dean's actions stated one thing, his body was loudly arguing against it.

Cas pouted. "Like I said," he complained, "no fun." He retracted his hand and rested it on Dean's chest again. Castiel's heart was beating fast. "You sure?" He glanced up at Dean and spoke in his most sultry voice. "I could make it real good, Dean. You know it."

Dean felt his cock twitch at the promise, but willed it to go away. Castiel had promised, but he should have realized the bastard wouldn't listen; he never did.

"And like I said: now is not the place. Meg could show up and how would you explain why you hand is down my pants?"

Cas shrugged, blushing. He was embarrassed now. He hid his face in Dean's chest yet again. "I know you're bored," he whispered. "Just wanted to make you feel good."

"You already made me feel good, Cas. You just need to rest."

They laid in silence for a few minutes. "How about you tell me what you want to do for your birthday. You'll still be in you sling and I doubt you ribs will be healed, so nothing strenuous. Last year Nigel asked to go paintball."

Castiel cringed at the idea of paintball. Broken ribs or no, there was no way he was going anywhere near paintball. The guns may be fake, but damn, they still shot out little pellets of paint that could really hurt.

"I don't want to do anything, Dean," he murmured. After a while, he added, "Well, maybe just... dinner. That's fine. With pie, because you love pie."

"Cas," Dean sighed. "It's your day; you choose what you want. Do you have a favourite dessert?" In the time of Castiel's stay, never have they talked about little interests like this. Well, Dean did, but Castiel was always very closed off about his past.

Cas shook his head. "I haven't had dessert since I was four," he replied calmly.

"Well, you're having a cake. And we'll get Kevin to make it, otherwise, Sam will and then he'll try to force some gluten-free shit at you."

Cas laughed, grateful that Dean didn't address the comment about his past. "Okay," he murmured happily. "Thank you, Dean. And…sorry for being a little shit."

"If you continue to do so, I'll kick your ass," Dean threatened jokingly, smirking down at Cas.

"I'd prefer you to do something a tad more creative with my ass... Sir," Cas teased, whispering the last syllable.

Dean inhaled sharply and groaned. "Cas," he warned, pushing his hips away from the boys. "You can't, nor should be doing that."

"And when has that ever stopped us," Castiel countered lovingly. He trailed his fingers up to the hollow of Dean's throat, stroking it gently as his lips close around an errant patch of twitching skin. He started sucking a bruise there.

"Cas," Dean moaned out, shakily, trying to sound threatening, but his voice was betraying him. "You're horrible at keeping your word."

Once the boy was satisfied that his lover's neck was a dark enough shade of purple, he moved his lips to whisper into Dean's ear. "That sounded an awful lot like a 'yes', Dean," he breathed hotly. "Can I?" He shifted his hand down, back to rest over Dean's crotch. He gave it a gentle squeeze but then just let his fingers hover.

"Cas, it hasn't even been five hours and already you are trying to get me off… again." Dean jumped when Castiel squeezed him and his traitorous part of his body hardened under the touch.

"I can't help that I'm bored and horny," Cas explained.

"I'm a twenty-six-year-old male, Cas. I don't exactly have the restraint of a monk." Dean tried to shift away from Cas.

“Will you lie with me?”

“’Course,” Dean said as he laid down on the space Cas made for him.

Dean took Cas’ hand, running his thumb over the boy’s hand.

Cas was silent for a moment before speaking.  "It hurts to lie on my side," he murmured. "But please, stay. You're... comforting."

“Are you sure?”  Dean was ready to sit back in the chair

Cas nodded.  “Please.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go.

Dean stormed over to the elevator and slammed the button unnecessarily hard.  Luckily he didn't have to wait too long before the doors opened.  He needed fresh air, to clear his head, to do something bedsides suffocate himself like the hospital room had been doing. 

He knew he was being too harsh on Cas.  The boy really wasn't doing anything differently, it's just... Dean didn't do hospitals and suddenly he was required to stay in one for an unknown amount of time.  Sure, Sam had offered to stay instead, but Dean would be damned before that happened.

*****

Cas shivered under the thin sheet, teeth chattering.  After a few minutes, Meg came to check on him and immediately knelt at his side.

"You all right, sugar?" she asked, genuinely concerned. 

Castiel nodded, but Meg saw right through him.  "I'm gonna grab you an extra blanket before I check you over, okay?"  She ran a soothing hand through his hair and left the room, returning with a large, cream coloured comforter.

She draped the blanket over Castiel and tucked it under his feet, folding it under his chin before checking him over.

"Where's lover boy?" she asked, voice not completely void of malice.

"Food," the boy said instead, not in the mood to talk about Dean.  Meg nodded then ran her fingers through his hair once more before leaving.  "Call out if you need anything."

*****

Dean didn't return to Castiel right away.  In fact, he checked his phone and took the unnecessary long time to call Sam back.  Sam seemed to suspect something was going on and insisted that Dean comes home for a day or two to get a change of 'scenery' as his brother put it.

"I'm fine!" Dean snapped into the phone, as he waited in line to get Castiel some Jell-O and a smoothie.

"Dean, don't fuck this up.  I can tell whatever it is you two are fighting about is something _you_ said!"

Dean gritted his teeth and was ready to retort, but Sam cut him off before he got a single word out.  "You've always had a problem with emotions, but you know what?  That’s exactly why you fuck everything up...because you get emotional.   For someone who claims to hate them and be as closed off as you are, you use them as an excuse too often.   Apologize to Cas and sort out this!  I don't want to have to deal with his and your bullshit for the next three weeks until he decide to more out!"

Sam's last sentence hit Dean.  In three weeks Cas would legally no longer be under their care.  He could run away and neither one of them would have any authority to bring him back.

"Fuck," Dean groaned and grabbed his order just as the lady behind the counter handed to him.

"I hope you're happy, bitch," Dean replied before ending the call, but he barely caught Sam laughing 'jerk' before the line went dead.  

Why was it Sam always had to be right?  Dean had already apologized for everything and now he has to do it again; great...

Dean hurried back to Castiel's floor and stalled outside his room. He tried to catch his nerve, taking a couple of deep breaths before walking into Cas' room.

Castiel looked up from his book, which he had been struggling to focus on for a while.  He nodded at Dean, not giving off any hint of emotion—cold, calculated.  Unattached.   Cas hated it, but it was the only way he saw that he could stop fucking up whatever it is they had between them.  He let out a long, quiet breath as he turned his face back toward his book.

Dean cringed inwardly as Castiel barely acknowledged him.  "I supposed 'I'm sorry' isn't going to be enough," Dean said, keeping his voice light.  Dean waited for Castiel to respond, but the boy just continued to “read” his book.  Dean sighed and walked over to Castiel.

Dean placed the food down on the tray, but didn't make any movement to push it towards Castiel. 

"Cas?" Dean spoke again, but the boy just turned his page and pretended like Dean didn't say anything.  "Can we talk?" Dean pushed forward.

Castiel bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding saying anything.  He hated ignoring Dean, but he didn't know what else to do.

Cas closed his book and set it down.  With a shaky exhale, the boy brought his eyes to Dean's face.  "I don't know what you want me to say," he said slowly.  "Because it's almost like you don't want me to feel."  He cringed at his choice of words, but then decided that they were accurate.  Dean always got mad when Castiel cried.  But the boy couldn't help it.

Dean struggled to bit back his argument.  He wanted to tell Castiel that wasn't true.  He let the boy cry more than he ever let Sam when they were younger, but that would be petulant and just cause more of a rife.  He needed to be the adult here and they both needed to deal with this in a mature way.

Dean tossed around Castiel's words for a moment.  He honestly didn't know what he wanted Castiel to say; hell, he didn't even know what he wanted to say.  Everything about this situation—their relationship was fucked up.  They had spent so much time sneaking around; they neglected to talk—to really talk. 

All Dean really knew about Castiel—when he really thought about it, was he played the piano, had been in a gang and preferred to be taken care of.  Yeah, that was the perfect foundation for a fucked up relationship.

"You never told me about your life...before all this."  Dean figured this was the best way to bring up the subject—better late than never.  Maybe there was still hope for them and they could emerge for this stronger. 

Castiel pursed his lips and looked down at the blanket.  He wasn’t sure if this really was what Dean wanted. 

"It wasn't much of a life," Cas countered, looking back up at Dean.  He'd spent most of it on the run, sleeping with strangers for money or food or a place to crash.  He was ashamed of his life before and all he wanted was to start afresh.  And yet, he knew he needed to face his past before he could move on from it.  For the first time in a long time, he wanted to open up.  He wanted to let someone into his life. And Dean was there.  He knew barely anything about the boy but he was still there.

Cas breathed in deep, and on the exhale, let out the words he'd never had the courage to say to anyone before.

"Ever since my mother died, I've been running.  I haven't stopped for what feels like my whole life."  He hesitated, not wanting to make Dean regret being with Cas for what he'd done; who he'd been.

"I-I'm going to cover my eyes," he said quietly.  "It's easier to talk if I can't see you."  He brought his palms up to his face and stared at his palms, fingers pressed to his forehead before he continued.

"I stayed in my old house until the landlord kicked me out, and then I was running.  I slept in alleys behind restaurants, begged for food outside of diners.  When I was fourteen, I found out that I could... trade... sex for money.  Or food.  Or a place to sleep.  It's a miracle I haven't caught anything.  They tested me after the shooting.  I survived that way until I was sixteen, which was when they found me—curled up under a bridge.  They took me in.  The rest you know.”

Castiel paused and inhaled deeply.  He held the breath for a couple of seconds before exhaling.  "Since I came to you, this is the first time I've said any of this.  I stopped running.  You and Sam and Kevin gave me a home.  And I won't soon forget it."

Once Castiel had finished, he lifted his arm, peered out of the corner of his eyes at Dean, waiting for a reaction.

Dean sat silently, listening to everything Castiel had to say.  Castiel's words were hard to swallow—he didn’t expect a heartfelt story, but he didn’t expect _that._ He knew Castiel had traded sex for favours—the boy mentioned it once, but hearing him actually confess to it, sent a chilling ache through the man's spine.  He kept his gaze focused on Castiel's arm, grateful that the boy had decided he couldn't look at him while talking; it was better for both of them.

"I know that," Dean whispered, "I want to know about the Castiel before all of this."  Dean searched his brain for a suggestion for Castiel.  "Tell me about your mom."  The only thing Dean knew about Castiel's mom was she was the one who had taught Castiel how to play the piano, but Sam had told him that.  Castiel never talked about his mom and vice versa for Dean.  It was an unspoken rule between them, but now, since their secret was out, the rules were fucked.

"I don't remember who I was," the boy whispered.  "Not entirely."  Castiel slowly pulled his hands away from his face, instead staring at them resting in his lap.

Dean had asked about Cas' mother.  His fingers trembled.  Now was as good a time as any to tell him. "M-my mom... I don't remember her face that well.  She had dark eyes and hair the colour of mahogany. That's all I know about her looks.  She emitted an air of importance.  I remember, even when she was being tender, feeling afraid.  Not of her, but of what she could do.  She never hit me.  She never abused me in any way.  It was just that... She was capable of so much, held so much potential, hosted so much raw emotion.  It was like she was so much more than a human soul."  Cas wiped at a tear that had formed on his cheek.  He wouldn't cry, not when Dean asked him not to.  

The memories of his mother were more powerful than he thought.  He hadn't thought about her in years, not willingly.  So for a long time, his memories had been muted.  Now, spilling everything to Dean, he remembered.

"When she first injected," he said, louder this time, more assured.  "I was asleep in the next room.  I woke up to the sound of her laughing.  But it was different to what I was used to.  I was scared of her.  Not of her soul, but her.  The heroin made her weak.  She was frail, after about a month.  And then after a year, she was gone."

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, taking Castiel's wrist and rubbed his thumb over the soft skin.  He couldn’t say more; what more could you say?

There were burning questions in Dean's mind.  He wanted to ask them; to know them and hope it would explain Castiel a bit more.

"How old were you?"  It was the most important question to Dean.  Was he just a boy?  Didn't he have other family?

Castiel smiled shakily as he felt Dean’s light tough.  He was glad that Dean seemed to want to be near him.  It made things easier.  "I was eleven when my mother died.  Nearly twelve when I left my house."

Dean didn't say anything for a while.  He knew he had his own shitty upbringing, losing his mom at such a young age, an abusive, alcoholic father who abandoned then says, sometimes weeks at a time; and placed in charge of Sam at too young of an age.  Luckily, while he was in charge of Sam, he also had Sam to keep him on the right path, Castiel didn't have that.

"You were only twelve?"  Dean knew that it was a long time since Castiel had been with his mom, according to his file, but they didn't have an exact date.  

"Was that when you started the-the..." Dean couldn't finish the sentence, part of him didn't want to.  Another thing that they both did: brush Castiel's drug addiction under the rug.  It was almost emotionally better for Dean to ignore it, but not now, he was determined to push past his discomfort and actually communicate with Castiel.

"N-no," he stammered.  "I only started when I joined the gang.  It was only weed.  I saw what heroin did to my mom.  But sometimes...sometimes I had a joint laced with LSD or ice."   He wouldn't tell Dean about his highs on the laced joints.   He didn't think he could describe the difference between them and pure cannabis.  He didn't think Dean would want to hear it either.

"Why?" Dean whispered, meeting Castiel's eyes for the first time since he started confessing.  He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer; he's never been around drugs and made damn well sure Sam never went near them, but the question was standing between them.

"Because it was there, mostly, but..." Cas took a deep breath, ready to tell Dean his reasoning for everything, "to feel closer to my mother.”  He looked up at Dean, finally, and held the man's gaze, his own eyes swimming.  "I never told anyone that before."

Dean tried to manage a small smile.  It felt morbid, but Dean felt light spread through him at the thought of being the first to hear this story.  He should feel grim, pity for the boy, but he was finally getting to know Castiel and all his demons.

"But why continue?"  This was the one question Dean was afraid of the answer.  "You said we gave you a family, but why-why did you feel the need to continue?"  Why did Castiel feel like he still needed so form of connection from his old life?

Cas sighed sadly.  "It was a shitty decision," he started.  "But... We were only connecting sexually and I didn't know how to start an emotional relationship.  The drugs made me numb.  Everywhere.  So I didn't feel like I had emotions to give.  It was easier...I didn't know how to get you to open up to me and I wasn't ready to open up. So I squashed my feelings.”  Cas bit his lip, knowing how horrible it sounded. "I'm sorry."

"We both made fucked up decisions," Dean concluded, ignoring Castiel's umpteenth apology of the day.  "I think we both went into this relationship unprepared.  We each did things we shouldn't have done and we are each at fault for not doing things we should have done."  Dean took a deep sigh and turned to look out the window, raindrops were hitting heavily against the glass. 

"I was too closed off and wasn't there for you.   I blame myself all this.  I used you and pushed away."  Dean paused, trying to form the next words perfectly.  "I wasn't there for you emotionally and I'm sorry to make you feel like I wasn't in the relationship as much as you were."

 _Holy shit_.  Cas stared at Dean.  His apology was sincere and accurate.  "Th-thank you, Dean," Cas murmured, “for apologizing and listening.  I-I'd like to hear about your life, too, but I won't make you talk if it's too much today."  Castiel brought Dean's fingers to his lips and kissed them gently.

"No," Dean sighed, "you deserve this."  Dean took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to share his story.  "There's honestly not much to tell," he began, but movement at the door stopped him.   A man—doctor, probably only a few years older than Dean, walked into the room. 

"Good afternoon, Castiel.  I'm Doctor Johnson" doctor greeted politely.  "How are you feeling today?" 

Dean bit his tongue to repress a snide remark in regard to being interrupted...yet again.  "Later," Dean quietly said to Castiel and moved off the bed so the doctor could move closer to Castiel.

Castiel wanted to yell at the young doctor, tell him to get out.  Too many times, Dean has been interrupted.  This was one of the most important times.  The boy barely held back the surge of fury that shot through him and calmly said, "I'm feeling a lot better, thank you."

The doctor hums approvingly and the looks to Dean and Castiel.  "We'll, I do have some good news for you," Dr. Johnson focused on Castiel.  "We want to keep you here for a couple more days, just to monitor that you actually are healing fine, but you'll be free to leave by the end of this week.

Castiel raised his eyebrows at the doctor.  "You're serious?" he asked hopefully, glancing at Dean and then back to the doctor.  When he nodded, Castiel grinned.  "Thank you."  

"It's really you're back and ribs we are concerned about, but it's not anything too serious.  I'd actually recommend you to start trying to walk for a little bit.  Try to ease yourself back into the habit.  It's actually not great for you to be in bed all the time, but at the time we were concerned because you were concussed." 

The doctor then turned to Dean.  "Try to let him walk on his own, but just be there if he needs any assistance.  I recommend him to use crutches; normally it's a back brace, but that can irritate the broken ribs in his case."  Dr. Johnson then looked at his watch and looked back at Castiel and then Dean.  "Unfortunately I have to make my other rounds, but if you have more questions, one of the nurses should be able to help you."

"All right, thank you," Dean said, and watched the doctor leave before speaking to Castiel.  "So, finally getting out of the prison.  How does that feel?"

Castiel beamed at Dean.  "Perfect," he sighed happily.  He could go home in a couple of days, see the boys, see Kevin, and see Sam.  He couldn't wait to help out again.  Whether it be chores, cooking or even just helping the younger ones with homework.  It was then that he realized what he wanted to do.

"I guess Sam doesn't need to bring Luke and Benny," Dean said, looking down at his phone, seeing a bunch of missed calls and texts from Sam and a few from Kevin. 

Sam was supposed to come over today, because of rain; the boys wouldn't be doing much.  However, it was almost pointless to bring the boys here if Cas was going home in two days.

Castiel barely registered what Dean was saying.  He was too excited about going home.  He already had his plan forming.  He would need Sam's help, though.

"Dean," the boy ventured confidently.  "Could you help me up?  I-I want to try walking."

"Umm, sure."  Dean put his phone back in his jeans' pocket and walked over to the boy.  "Let me know if anything hurts."  Dean wrapped his left arm around Castiel's shoulders and guided the boy out of the bed. 

Castiel gripped Dean's arm with his good hand and eased his legs out from under the blankets.  He winced slightly as his ribs tugged and his legs were shaking from disuse, but he was otherwise fine.

"J-just stay close, okay?"  He pressed his feet to the cold floor and clung to Dean for support.  Castiel took a few tentative steps and then pulled away from Dean slowly.  "O-okay," he reassured Dean.  A few more steps, and then he lost his balance, reaching for Dean and leaning close.  He grimaced and let out a growl as his ribs protested.    

"How about I hold onto you and we just go at your pace," Dean suggested, straightening Castiel up as gently as he could without irritating his ribs. 

Castiel guided the IV pole in his free hand, but due to his sling, Dean could only hold onto his shoulder and help guide Castiel away from the bed.  

Cas nodded, an embarrassed flush colouring his cheeks.  Using the IV pole as support and leaning heavily against Dean, he shuffled his feet slowly.  His legs were shaking so much; he thought he would vibrate out of his skin.  His confident smile was gone, and instead he was frowning in concentration.  "Th-this is harder than I thought it would b-be," he murmured.

"Cas, you been on bed rest for almost a week. 

They reached the door and Dean and Castiel slowly walked out into the hall.  "We'll only go down to the hall and then back.   Does that sound fair?"  Dean could tell the teen just wanted to go back and lie down, but he wanted Castiel to at least try.

"C-can we just go half way?" Castiel panted, gripping the pole and leaning into Dean.  He was already short of breath and struggling for breath was putting pressure on his ribs.  He winced slightly as his lungs expanded a little too much.

"Halfway," Dean agreed and continued the slow crawl down the hallway.  "We should have had Sam bring you slippers or something."  Dean looked down at Castiel's bare feet.

Cas let out a pained laugh.  "Or at l-least s-socks," he managed, breathing heavily.  They passed the nurse’s station, and Meg excitedly waved, seeming happy that Cas was finally up and moving.

They got to the elevators and then turned around.  "You're doing great, Cas," Dean praised. 

Cas moaned in protest.  If he could speak without it hurting, he'd tell Dean it didn't feel like he was doing great.  They were so close to his room now, and Cas got frantic.  He tried to move a little faster, wanting so badly to lie back in his bed again.

"Hey, hey, easy there!"  Dean stopped Castiel from moving forward.  "We're taking this slowly; I don't want you to push yourself."  Dean gripped Castiel's shoulder, forcing him to follow his pace.

Cas forced himself to slow down, but he scowled at Dean anyway.  "It-it hurts," he uttered, voice strained.  He screwed his face up and leaned against Dean to relieve the pressure from his back.

"I know it does, but it's going to hurt more if you push yourself."  He slowly led Castiel back into his room and over to the bed.  "Pushing yourself isn't going to make it any easier."

Dean moved the IV pole back into place, next to the bed and the focused on Castiel, who was standing, waiting for Dean's assistance.  Dean, like earlier, wrapped his arm around Castiel and helped the boy ease slowly back onto the bed.

"Thanks," the boy said quietly as he was lowered into bed.  "Sorry."  He smiled weakly at Dean.  He really was thankful that the man was so patient with him.  "M-maybe we can t-try again l-later."

"Whatever you want," Dean replied, sitting back on the chair as Castiel settled himself into a comfortable position.  "We can wait until tomorrow if you don't end up feeling up to it."

"Hmm," Cas hummed, agreeing.  He was calm now, breathing normally and not aching all over.  He felt boneless and he wanted to sleep.

"Dean," he said before yawning.  Which pulled his ribs a bit and he winced, but schooled his features again.  "I'm going to sleep."  He can't remember if he said much more, or even if Dean replied.  He just slipped into unconsciousness.

*****

It was Thursday and Castiel was finally getting discharged today, much to Dean's relief.  Castiel had just gotten the IV needle taken out of his hand and was flexing it, trying to get used to having full movement again.

"About time, right?" Dean said, leaning against the wall, watching Castiel sit up on the bed, still in his hospital gown.  The nurse had just gone to get the papers to discharge Castiel and the paperwork to explain the treatments for Castiel healing.

Cas' grin split his face.  "Yeah," he laughed.  "Feels good."  He flexed his hand some more and made sure everything was packed up to take home.

Dean had been helping him walk up and down the hall, a little further each time.  It was still slow going, but it didn't hurt as much.  He could walk around his room without holding onto Dean anymore, but he guessed he would need some help getting up the stairs at home. 

"Okay," the male nurse said, walking into the room; Meg had come yesterday to say bye to Castiel, warning him that she better not see him back here anytime soon.  Dean didn't say anything about the hug they shared and smiled as the nurse left.  He still didn't like her, but he did realize she was there for Castiel and had helped him a lot.

"So, everything looks fine here," the nurse said, flipping through the pages.  “I understand Dr. Johnson went over the treatments with you, but I am just going to go over them again."

Dean nodded and listened as Evan, the nurse, just explained the basic care for the cast, again, and to not let Castiel stay lying in bed for too long, even if it pains him to move and just stay away from vigorous activities until he gets cleared by the doctor. 

"Besides that,” Evan concluded, clasping the file in his hands,  “your free to go.  Take care of yourself, Castiel."

Dean thanked the nurse and took the forms Evan handed him and then turned to Castiel.   "Want me to help you with that," Dean nodded to the folded shirt and sweatpants Sam had brought with him yesterday.

Castiel nodded sheepishly, a little embarrassed that he still couldn't dress himself.  "Yes, please," he murmured.  He knew Dean didn't mind, but he wanted to be able to look after himself.

Dean walked over, closed the door, and then placed the papers down on the chair he had occupied for most of the week.  He worked the sling off Castiel's arm and then slowly untied the gown, slipping it off Castiel. 

He grabbed the t-shirt and eased it over the bandaged arm and then over Castiel's head.  "Other arm," Dean said and Castiel complied by lifting it up and pushing it through the hole.  "Do you need help with your pants?"  Dean knew there wasn't anything for them to be ashamed about, but he didn't know if Castiel wanted help with everything.

"Uhh..."  He considered if it was necessary, and bent forward just to check.  His ribs protested and he shot back up.  "Yeah, yes.  Please."  He didn't look Dean in the eye.  Sure, the guy had seen him naked, but it was a bit different when Cas was unable to move properly.  "Sorry." 

Dean just smiled and grabbed Castiel's hand.  "Stand up," he said quietly and helped the boy stand.  He pushed at the waistband of Castiel's pajama bottoms until the dropped and pooled at his feet.  He then gently eased the boy back onto the bed and grabbed the clean pair of boxers and slipped the over his legs.  When the got to his thighs, Dean pulled Castiel back up and eased them over Castiel's hips.   Dean then repeated the same act with the sweatpants and soon Castiel was dressed. 

Cas hugged himself with his good arm and let Dean guide him into his pants.  "Thank you," he whispered when the older man was done.  It was kind of weird, being half naked with Dean and not being sexual.  But it was also really nice.  They had grown.

After a few beats, Cas looked up at Dean.  "Thank you for being here," he expressed genuinely.  "I know I was a little shit to look after."  A smirk crossed his features at that, half-proud, half-remorseful.  

Dean remanded silent and let Castiel tighten his grip around him.  "I wasn't about to leave you, Cas.  We may have a fucked up relationship, but I wasn't about to ignore that."

Cas sent a small smile up to Dean.  "Is it really all that fucked up?" he asked quietly.  "We both look after each other.  Well, you look after me.  And we click in ways I've never witnessed.  And don't get me started on the sex."  He grinned, hoping Dean would find it amusing.

Dean smirked and kissed Castiel passionately.  He still held reserve, not wanting to hurt Castiel, but he didn't hold back like he had been doing the past week. 

"Which we will not be doing until you're fully healed," Dean warned, pulling back and giving Castiel and serious look. 

Cas hummed into the kiss, relaxing a little at Dean's touch.  The boy nodded at Dean's warning, agreeing. "No complaints here," he reassured.  "My ribs hurt too much for that."  He stood shakily, standing on his toes to peck Dean's cheek.  "Let's go home," he said excitedly.  "I wanna see the others."

Dean helped Castiel walk over to the elevators, where the boy leaned on him for the short ride down to the main floor.  "Do you want me to go get the car or do you think you can handle walking?"  Dean knew he should really just get the car, but he didn't want Castiel to feel like he was being suffocated and wanted him to make some decisions about his health.

"I don't think I can make it to the car park," the boy confessed.  It was nice to be given a choice.  He knew it was hard for Dean not to take charge of a situation.  He was a natural leader.  So it was no small feat to give Castiel options.  The boy was grateful

"Right," Dean nodded and led Castiel to a chair near the front entrance.  "Just wait here and I'll come back in to help you."  Dean went out to the parking lot and to the Impala, where Sam had parked it when he dropped it off for Dean.

Castiel nodded as Dean set him in the chair.  While Dean was gone, the boy worried his lip between his teeth, contemplating his arrival home.  It struck him that the boys might not know the whole story.  He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Dean pulled the car up to the entrance, leaving it on as he headed back in.  "Ready?" He asked, walking up to Castiel. 

Cas smiled up at Dean and nodded before letting the man help him out of the chair.  It was a moderately slow walk out to the impala, but worth it.  Cas chuckled at Dean's questioning look, and explained, "I'm outside."  The grin that cut his face almost hurt his cheeks.

Dean smiled.  It was the first time Castiel had been outside since his accident and it was appropriate that it was sunny and warm. 

Dean slowly eased Castiel into the passenger seat and then walked around the car, sliding into the driver's seat.  "Let's get you home."

*****

The drive home was quiet, save for the low rumbling of the engine and the twangs of instruments from the radio.  Dean didn’t try to engage a conversation, wanting to give Castiel’s some quiet before they got home.

After a while, Cas needed to ask what had been plaguing him for a while. "Dean? Do-do the others know?"

Dean's jaw clenched for a moment.  Sam and he had talked about what to tell the boys about Castiel; they all had a lot of questions.  It was a tense discussion, something Dean didn't want to repeat anytime soon.  In the end, though, they both were able to agree on a story.

"No," Dean answered and looked at Castiel quickly.  "They don't know."  Dean turned his focus back onto the road, but continued to talk.  "They know that you fell off the roof.  They don't know the real reason, though.   Sam and I figure it is best to keep this among the four of us.

Castiel nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.  "Thank you," he said quietly.  

Castiel leaned back into his seat, staring out at the road ahead of them.  The rest of the trip was spent in silence.

When Dean pulled the Impala into her usual spot and turned the engine off he turned to Castiel.  "Kevin does know," Dean said.  "I just wanted to warn you.  We won't talk about it now, but we do need to talk to you Castiel."

Cas just nodded in agreement.  He expected they needed to talk. F or now, he had to worry about getting inside.

He managed to get himself out of the impala, slowly and carefully.  Dean was already holding Cas' things.  He went over to the man and slid his hand around the arm there for support.  "Let's go," he murmured confidently.

The walk to the house was slow, but Castiel was walking much better; his grip on Dean's arm wasn't as tight as it had been two day previous. 

Going up the steps was a little difficult and Dean almost had to lift the boy up since he almost fell forward when his back seized on him. 

"You're doing great, Cas," Dean praised and shifted the bag over his shoulder as it started to slide down when Castiel almost pulled Dean down with him.  "Just a few more steps and then you can lie down."

"No," Castiel protested, panting from the effort of getting up the stairs.  "I wanna see the others first."  He was adamant about this.  He needed them to see he was okay, that he was grateful, that if they hadn't found him when they did, it could've been a lot worse.

"Fine," Dean agreed and started to turn to the doorknob.  "But you're not staying around them for too long."  He didn’t the boys to stress Cas out—this was probably an exciting event for them.

It was just going on to be noon when Dean and Castiel walked through the door.  Dean could hear excited chatter come from the kitchen; most likely they were getting ready for lunch.

"We're home!" Dean called out and Kevin soon appeared down the short hall, in the Kitchen entrance.

"Hey, welcome back!" Kevin greeted the, smiling at Castiel and walked over to the couple.

Castiel positively beamed at Kevin.  "Hey," he greeted warmly.  "Better be making something awesome for lunch.  Hospital food was crap."

Castiel stepped forward, with a little help from Dean, and hugged Kevin gingerly.  He had missed the man, not just his food.

“Damn right, I am,” Kevin chuckled and let the boy hug him.  He looked over his shoulder to Dean, a questioning look on his face.  Dean just shook his head and that was all the confirmation he needed--they would talk later. 

"Well," Kevin said, pulling back, "Kyle and Nigel are in the kitchen with me.  They'll be happy to see you.  The rest are outside with Sam."

Cas smiled at Kevin and pulled away, heading down the hall slowly, one hand pressing against the wall for support.  When he reached the kitchen, he saw Kyle and Nigel, the youngest of the bunch, taking turns at cutting vegetables.  

Castiel leaned against the door-jamb, watching the boys.  He was happy to see that Nigel had finally started helping in the kitchen.

Kyle looked up and spotted Castiel, eyes widening and mouth agape.  "Cas!" he gasped, dropping his utensils and coming close to Cas.  He looked timid, not sure if he would hurt Cas by hugging him.

Cas just nodded, saying, "Just be careful," before the younger boy wrapped his arms around Cas' middle gently.

Nigel was standing behind Kyle, practically bouncing, and Cas laughed as he released Kyle. "Come here, Nigel," he coaxed, and the younger boy came forward and hugged Cas.

"We missed you," Nigel murmured into Cas' chest.

*****

"When are we talking to him?" Kevin whispered as the two men heard Nigel and Kyle excitingly welcome Castiel back.   The two men stayed behind, lingering by the front entrance. 

"Jesus, Kevin," Dean growled and the younger man just held his hand up in defence.  "I'm just saying Dean.  I'm not saying today, but we aren't avoiding this until it's forgotten.  Sam will make damn sure we don't."

Dean walked forward, placing Castiel's bag down on the third step of the stairs.  "Just give the kid a couple of days to get used to being home."  

Kevin didn't answer right away, he just turned and looked down at the kitchen.  They briefly saw Kyle walk past the door, asking Castiel about his cast. 

"Sam said we're talking to him by the end of the week," Kevin spoke up, still looking away from Dean.  Dean nodded, even though Kevin couldn't see him.  "I just don't get it," Kevin said, quietly to himself and walked back to the kitchen.

*****

Cas listened to the boys fill him in on what happened at home for the last week, and in turn, he told the boys about the hospital, the nice nurses and the shitty food.  Everything they asked for.

"Guys, will you help me outside?" he asked after a while.  "I want to see the others."  Kyle immediately went to Cas' sides, guiding him to the back door, and helping him down the stairs.  The other boys had spotted him and were jogging over to greet him, each with a gleaming smile on their features.  It warmed Cas' heart.  This was what home felt like.      

Sam was talking to Benny, explaining how to properly use the mower, since the boy almost always refused to turn it off properly, when the boy ran off.   Sam looked over confused and saw Castiel slowly limp over to where the other boys had gathered around him.  Sam had heard the Impala pull up, but figured they would all just meet when it was time for lunch.

Sam walked over to the boy, who had improved significantly since the last time he had seen him.  He still looked skinner than he had before the accident

Cas was greeting all the boys when Sam strode over.  Cas' smile faltered a little, knowing that Sam knew all about what had happened.  He figured Dean must have filled the other men in, which was okay because all three of them were his guardians and deserved to know.

"H-hey Sam," Castiel greeted, flashing him a nervous grin.  "Th-thanks for... uhh... everything."    

Sam nodded and smiled.  "It's good to finally see you up and walking around.  How are you feeling?"

"Much better," the boy sighed.  "It hurts less to breathe and walk now."

Sam was about to respond, but he was cut off by Nicki.   "Can we sign your cast?" the younger boy asked excitedly, looking down at the green—Sam took notice, plaster of the cast.

"Yeah, of course," Cas responded, pulling a marker from his pocket.  He knew it was one of the first questions any of them would ask so he asked Meg for the pen.  He gave it to Nicki, who passed it on to the others once he was finished, and each of the boys took their turn writing something on the cast.

Cas had to sit on the bench half way through, tired out from standing for so long.

"We should all go inside," Sam announced when Castiel sat down.  "Lunch is probably ready.  Do you think you can walk back?" Sam asked, moving in front of the boy.  "I can stay with you until you're ready."

"I'm fine," Cas reassured.  "I'll just need some help to get up the stairs."  Sam nodded and helped the boy off the bench.  The other boys all ran ahead, getting out of the way as quickly as possible.  Cas clung to Sam since the railing on the steps was off limits due to his cast.  Castiel’s back straining a bit.  He was relieved to finally be inside and guided to a chair at the dining table.

Kevin and Dean were just finishing laying out lunch when all the boys came in, Castiel and Sam trailing behind.

"You're supposed to be resting," Dean started, taking in Castiel's tired state.

"But I'm hungry," Cas whined jokingly, pouting and then smirking when Dean looked less than impressed.  "I'll go rest after lunch," he promised sincerely.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.  "Fine, but I'm holding you to that.  I've got witnesses," Dean nodded to his brother and Kevin, know damn well that the boys would stick with Castiel; they always stuck to their own kind.

"Take a seat," he ordered, sitting down himself and everyone else followed.

Cas smirked and sat between Benny and Nigel.  He had to ask Benny to fill his plate for him, as he wasn't ready to stretch across the table.  He apologized for the inconvenience, but Benny told him to shut up with a fond smirk.  

Castiel managed to get down half of his food, not used to eating big meals.  After lunch, some of the boys washed up and Cas was led to the couch in the living room.  He was told to lie down and rest, and the TV was turned on for him.  He dozed off, however, and missed the better half of a midday movie.

*****

Once lunch was cleaned up, Sam gave the boys the rest of the day off.  Dean was worried because that meant one thing: talking.  If the three of them were going to talk, they always made sure the boys were doing something that wouldn't interrupt them.

"What is it?" Dean asked before Sam even said anything.  "Are you and Cas still together?"  Dean blanched and then glared at his brother. 

"What the fuck?" he growled a little too loudly, remembering that Castiel was just in the other room. 

"Dean, we need to know," Sam titled his head between Kevin and himself.  "We need to know so we can act appropriately." 

"It wasn't illegal, Sam.  Not everything that goes on needs to be looked at by a lawyer's perspective." 

"I'm just saying, Dean.  He's seventeen and-"

"And it's legal," Dean cut it, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re his guardian,” Sam finished, shooting Dean a pointing look.

"He'll be 18 in three weeks and it's not like the sheriff or any service workers are dropping by anytime soon,” Dean argued.  “Hell, they do a shit job to begin with"

"That's not what he meant," Kevin cut in and Dean began to feel like Sam and Kevin had already had this conversation before.  "So, what, you're now having private conversations without me?" Dean asked hotly, feeling defensive now that he is the one being scrutinized. 

"We didn't do anything, Dean," Kevin protested and Dean just huffed.  "Sam is just asking this so we know how to approach it.  What are we going to tell the other boys?"

Dean remained silent, looking from Kevin to his brother.  Why did life have to be so complicated?  Why was it when he was finally happy, why did shit have to show its ugly face?

"I don't know what we're going to tell the boys," Dean snapped.  "Damn it, I don't even know if this will last."

Kevin and Sam were silent after that, letting the hidden mean behind Dean's words sink in.

"Has Castiel talked to you about when he becomes 18?" Sam asked, but Dean remained silent, staring at the floor.  "If he's going to stay with you, we can make arrangements; figure all this out.  But we need you to be honest; no more secrets.”

Dean scoffed, but looked up at the two younger men starting at him.  "You're right," Dean sighed, "Cas will be 18 soon, but that doesn't mean we are confessing anything to the boys.  As far as I know, Cas will be leaving and this will just be another failure in my life," Dean growled the last part and stormed over to the basement door.  He opened and closed it behind him, harshly, as he stormed down the stairs.

"Should we-" Kevin began, but Sam cut him off with a shake of his head. "Let him cool off."

*****

Cas woke to an explosion on the TV, which made him flinch, making his back spasm.  He cried out, but he hoped it wasn't loud.  He didn't want the others to worry.  Breathing deeply, the boy tried to relax.  It was the only thing that would help.  After a while, the sharp throbs eased and he settled back into the couch with a sigh. 

After another three spasm shocked through the boy's body, he decided he needed to sit upright.

"D-dean?" Castiel called, softer than he intended.  He called out again, a little louder this time.  He heard footsteps heading toward him, but the man who appeared was the younger Winchester.   Dean must be busy.

"Sam," Castiel sighed in relief.  "C-could you help me up, please?  My back has been in spasm."  He also needed to talk to Sam, but he figured that could probably wait for a while.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Sam said and hurried over to the boy.  Sam snaked his left arm around Castiel's shoulders and used his left arm to steady Castiel's torso as the boy straightened himself comfortably on the couch.

"How does that feel?" Sam asked, keeping his arm around Cas in case he needed to help him further.

"Much better," Cas sighed.  "Thank you."  Sam nodded and looked like he was about to leave the room,

Sam left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.  He went outside to where Kevin was watching the boys play a game of football. 

"Has Dean come up yet?" Sam asked, watching as the Nicki and Kyle fought for the ball. 

"Not yet, but knowing Dean, he could be down there for hours."  Sam hummed and then spoke again.

****

When Castiel woke, the sun streaming in through the window was more orange and warm than yellow and hot.  Nigel had prodded him gently to wake him and tell him it was time to eat.  Cas was going to tell him he'd be down in a minute, but then realized he would need help down the stairs.

He looked at Nigel apologetically as the young boy helped him up, but Nigel just smiled and chartered to him the whole way to the table.

Dean wasn't there and he frowned questioningly at Sam.  He shook his head.  So Dean was sulking.  Cas sighed and began to eat, thanking whoever had already filled his plate for him.

*****

Supper was filled with light chatter.  The boys were still interested in Castiel injuries and continued to probe him with more questions about everything.

Dean absence was noticed, but no one commented on it, mainly because Sam and Kevin never brought it up.

Cas answered every question he could, sometimes getting frazzled by multiple questions at a time.  Kevin eventually told them to take it easy and the questions slowed.  After everyone had eaten and a couple of boys got up to wash the dishes, the others asked to put a movie on and spend time with Castiel.

Kevin allowed them and they rushed into the lounge room, forgetting that Cas couldn’t get up on his own.

Kevin helped Cas into the other room before leaving to do the dished.

*****

The movie was some action comedy that Castiel had never seen before.  Rush Hour, he remembered one of the boys said.  He was laughing, which kind of hurt, but he was able to stop before it got too bad.

When the movie was finished, he yawned and Benny noticed.  "You want to go to bed?" He asked kindly.

"No, I need to shower," was Cas' reply.  He wasn't sure how he would do that without help.  A nurse always helped him at the hospital, and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with anyone but Dean helping him.  Even then, he didn't think he could control himself.  He sighed and told Benny he'd changed his mind and that he should just go to bed.

Dean was walking past the living room just as the boys started to file out of the room and up the stairs.

"Need help?" Dean asked when he saw Benny try to support Castiel's weight as the boy struggled to get his balancing without hurting his back.

"Y-yeah," Cas stammered, noticing Dean had come out of hiding.  "Benny, it's okay.  You go on and I'll see you soon."  The younger boy nodded and headed upstairs.

"Here," Dean said and wrapped his arm around Castiel, easily supporting the boy's weight.  It has been a long and stressful day--week and it would be nice to finally crawl into his own bed for the first time in a week, but Castiel was his main priority at the moment

"Bed?" he asked, as they slowly made their way to the stairs, taking them one at a time.

"Uhh.. well," Cas started tentatively.  "I need a shower.  B-but I always had a nurse help me a-and I'm not sure I can do it myself yet."  He said all this very quickly and blushed.  He didn't want to impose on Dean; he probably wanted some time to himself.  "I-it's fine. I'll just go to bed.  Forget I said anything."

"Okay, we can do that," Dean said, once they were up at the top of the stairs.  "Don't be afraid to ask."

Dean began to lead Castiel down to his bathroom.  Since most of the boys were now just settling into their own rooms, Dean didn't want to disturb any of them.  Castiel seemed a little reluctant at first but followed Dean anyway.

"A-are you sure?" the boy squeaked.  "I just uhh… I don't know i-if I can control myself."  Castiel blushed to the tips of his ears, turning his face to watch his feet. "A-and I want to behave, I do."

"Don't be embarrassed, Cas," Dean teased, but then his face turned to concern when Castiel wouldn't meet his gaze.  "It's okay.  We can take it slowly if we need to.  Seriously, don't be embarrassed, Cas."  Dean leaned over and gently kissed Castiel's lips for reassurance.

Cas nodded stiffly and smiled, grateful for Dean's patience.  "Thank you, Dean," he breathed, clutching the man's arm a little tighter. 

Dean led Cas to his room, which was understandable as the bathroom was pretty much in the middle of all the boys' rooms and they wouldn't want to be disturbed.  It still made Cas' heart thump a little harder and his breath hitch.  He tried to control himself. 

Dean closed the door and then turned to Castiel.  "You need to cover that up?" though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Cas spluttered a little.  "C-cover what-what should I cover?"  The boy looked down at himself, checking to see that he hadn't become hard without his knowledge.  He was relieved to find this wasn't the case, but was still confused as to Dean's meaning.

"You're cute when you're flustered," Dean teased, running his fingers over Castiel's flushed cheeks.  "But I meant the cast," Dean clarified, chuckling at the boy startled look.  "We have to cover the cast up so it doesn't get wet. 

"Oh," he said, voice small.  He looked down at his feet again, face heating further.  Man, he was on a roll.

Dean chuckled and then turned to the cupboards under his sink.  "I think I have a plastic bag here," Dean said, more for Castiel than himself.  He knew the boy was embarrassed and didn't want to continue going on about it.   A second later he stood up, a white plastic bag in his hand.

Castiel smiled thankfully at Dean as the man tied the bag around his arm, tucking it into the cast so no water would get in.  "This is kind of really irritating," he told Dean, lifting the arm in question with a sour look on his face.   

"I know, but it's only for six weeks."  That was supposed to make Castiel feel better, though didn't sound like it.

Dean turned the shower on and adjusted the knobs to the right temperature.  He let his hand test the water until it was at a warm enough temperature.

Dean walked over to Castiel and smiled.   He gently tugged on the boy's sweatpants and boxers, slipping them past his hips and letting them pool at his feet.

Cas held his breath as Dean undressed him, not wanting to slip up in any way.  Getting out of his shirt was hard, but didn't hurt as much as it used to.

After the boy was undressed, Dean guided him over the lip of the tub, and Cas dipped under the stream.  He sighed out and relaxed slightly, but realized that Dean was fully dressed and watching him bathe.  Well, standing under the water.  He could barely move without at least some discomfort, and he knew washing was painful from experience.  But he didn't have the courage to ask Dean for help, worried it would be seen as a proposition. 

When Dean was certain Castiel had his balance, Dean pulled his hand back and began to strip his own clothes.  Cas' eyes widened as he watched Dean get undressed.

Dean then got into the shower and under the spray with Castiel.  "Better," he murmured and looked down at Castiel.

Castiel panicked briefly before Dean stepped into his personal space. The warmth emanating from the man's body calmed Castiel and he nodded.  "Yeah," he murmured.  "Much better." 

Dean smirked and kissed the boy's lips gently.  It was a strange feeling to be in the shower with Castiel.  This was one of the things they never did together.  It was too risky and Dean never educated the thought long enough to act on the desire.

Dean's chaste kiss sent butterflies reeling in Castiel’s stomach.  The nerves Castiel felt, showering with Dean for the first time were of quite a large scale.  Cas trembled under the warm water, eyes wide and worried.  He was scared that he would inadvertently make things awkward, but he wanted so badly the intimacy this moment promised. 

Dean reached behind Castiel, to grab the shampoo for the metal rack.  The boy shrunk back a little, giving Dean a little extra room.

Dean poured an appropriate amount and lathered it in his hands, before massaging it gently into the boy's hair.

Cas breathed a sigh of relief; he didn't know if he would have been able to control himself if Dean had done anything else.  All the boy’s worries disappeared once Dean's fingers were tangling in the boy's shaggy hair, gently pressing into all the right places.

Cas groaned quietly and dropped his head forward, eyes closed, against Dean's chest. The sensations were amazing.  

"Lean back," Dean ordered, once Castiel's hair was covered in white bubbles.  It was a little awkward for Castiel to tip his head back to rinse out his hair, but he still managed.  His neck was no exposed to Dean and the man latched his lips onto the clear skin, sucking lightly.

The shower was quick and gentle.  Dean dried Cas up and help him change into his pajamas.

They stalled outside of Castiel's room.  "Can you make it to your bed okay or do you want me to help?"  Dean didn't know if it would be too conspicuous if he walked Castiel to his bed.  He didn't want Benny or Luke to jump to conclusions, however right they may be.

"P-please, could you h-help," Castiel stammered.  He didn't know if it was the cold or the pain, but he felt stupid for it

Dean just kept his grip on Castiel and opened the door quietly.  Benny and Luke were asleep in their beds, so Dean had to shuffle quietly into the room with Castiel.

Cas tried to keep quiet as Dean guided him to his bed, sitting him on the edge and then maneuvering him to lay back.  He gently whispered, "Thank you, Dean," and reached up a hand to touch his face.           

'I love you' was on the tip of Dean's tongue, but he didn't say it.  Even though Sam and Kevin knew, Dean was nowhere near willing to let the boys know—not yet.

"Good night, Cas," was what he settled with and brushed the thumb of his right hand over Castiel hand. He then pulled back and quietly left the room.


	13. Chapter 13

Every day, Cas was getting better. He was starting to walk on flat surfaces by himself, and as long as someone helped him down and upstairs and into and out of his bed, chairs, the couch, he could walk across the hall or around the kitchen. It'd been a week after he arrived home, and he was napping less and less. He helped out with dishes and keeping the young ones occupied, all the stuff that required minimum movement. In his spare time, he read or played the piano. It was only with one hand, and it was slow, but he was playing and that's all that mattered to him.

Dean helped him shower every night. They would always start off careful, avoiding touch, but almost as soon as Dean started washing Cas, things turned sexual. Cas wasn't complaining. The same thing happened every night. Intimate, languid hand jobs under hot water, heavy breaths against each other's necks and warm kisses pressed to every inch of skin in reach. It helped Cas sleep better if nothing else.

Castiel hadn't had a really bad nightmare since coming home. Sure, some nights he woke to breathe hard and fast, a sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, his heart beating at a hundred miles an hour, but he hadn't woken up sobbing or seen Dean dead for about a week and a half. He counted it as a win. 

*****

Dean was watching Castiel sit on the porch, reading.  Already he could notice a huge difference in Castiel. He was more confident in himself than the timid boy who showed up almost four months ago. It was also that thought that step a pang of hurt though his chest.

Most of the boys were at school, now that the summer was over.  Since Castiel was basically 18 he wasn't required to go and that meant Dean got to see more of the boy. They were still careful, not wanting the boys to pick up on anything.  

In two weeks Castiel would be 18 and that meant he could leave whenever he wanted. Usually if the boys stayed until they were 18, they gave them a couple of months to sort themselves out, but Castiel, Castiel hadn't made any mention that he wanted to stay.

*****

Cas closed his book for a few moments, marking the page with a finger. He'd been reading for almost two hours out in the sun, and his eyes were starting to hurt. Clutching the armrest of the chair he was seated in, he tried to push himself up. He got about half way before collapsing back into the chair. Sighing exasperatedly, he returned to reading his book. He guessed he would have to wait until someone noticed he wasn't inside.

Usually, he made sure someone was always with him, just in case. But with the other boys at their equivalent of school, he decided he could use a bit of alone time. Now that he was done being alone, he needed someone, and he was stupid enough to not have them around.   

Dean noticed Castiel's struggle and decided to go outside.  It was unusually cool for the beginning of September, but it was still warm enough to go outside in a t-shirt and jeans.

"Need help?" Dean asked, moving over to the cushioned chair Castiel was seated in.  Dean took a seat in the chair next to the boy.  Out of all the time they spent together, they never once sat out on the porch; it was nice.

Cas blanched at the sound of the door creaking open and watched Dean sit down. "Maybe in a few minutes," he answered. "Wouldn't want to make you stand up again, Especially when it’s this nice out." He placed his book on the small table between them and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and bathing in the sun.

The house was unusually quiet, without the loud chatter from the boys.  Even Sam was getting ready to head back to school.  Even though Dean knew this is what September brought, it was still a weird feeling when it came to that time.

"How are you feeling?"  After two weeks, Castiel still needed help with standing, sitting and going up the stairs, but he was now able to walk short distances on his own.  His ribs, however, were still causing him problems.  And his arm was still in a sling.

"I'm fine if I stay still," the boy answered, eyes still closed against the light.  "My arm's been getting a little itchy though." Cas had been wearing Dean's button-downs, because it was easier to get in and out of them than his own t-shirts. It helped calm the boy after nightmares, too. He'd bury his face in the fabric and the scent of warmth and Dean would quell his fears. He didn't know if that would be seen as nice or creepy, so he didn't tell Dean.

Dean hummed and looked ahead out to the front yard. "Still have another month with that thing."

Cas sighed. "It's going to be a long month." He turned his face and peeked his eye open, squinting at Dean in the harsh light. "I'm gonna have it for my birthday."

Dean gave a sympathetic smile. "I guess paintball is out," Dean teased.

Cas chuckled and the strain hurt his ribs. The grimace was only fleeting, though. "Even if I didn't have it, my ribs wouldn't give me an advantage," he joked. After a moment, he looked at Dean properly. "I know I say it a lot, probably too much, but I want to thank you again for everything. It's been a hard year, but you've made my life better in just a few months. Not just you, the others too. But you've been my constant."

Dean smiled and shrugged, “It's what we do, Cas. We weren't about to treat you any differently, no matter what your history was.  You're part of the team now."

There was silence between the two males.  Dean was hoping the last part would get Castiel to say something about stay...it didn't.  And Dean felt slightly dejected. Maybe Castiel was planning on leaving. He hasn't talked about his arrangements at all and Dean was starting to wonder if he ever would, or just slip out one night.

Cas didn't say anything. He didn't nod or give any indication that he'd heard the man. It made him feel bad to see Dean so hopeful, and then so downtrodden. It'd be worth it for the surprise, though. And he would apologize for putting the man through this. For now, though, he kept quiet.

After a few silent minutes, Cas looked over at Dean. "Do you want to take a nap with me?" he asked softly, reaching a soothing hand over to stroke the man's forearm. "There's still a few hours before the boys get home. And the sun has made me sleepy."

"I have work," was Dean's curt reply. He didn't nap, but he would usually lay with Castiel, but not today.

"Do want me to help you up or are you fine getting in yourself?"  Dean knew it was a dick move and that Castiel would need help, but he wanted the boy to ask for it.

Cas flinched at Dean's tone. He couldn't really be that upset so quickly, could he? Just because he hadn't said anything about helping, didn't mean he wasn't staying. Right? He shook the feeling of guilt off and decided he would have to deal with it over the next couple of weeks. "I-I would like some help if that's okay," he asked softly, not wanting to say anything that would set Dean off.  

"Your room or the couch?"  Castiel had sometimes taken to sleeping on the couch since the boys weren't around much during the day and sometimes he was too tired to walk up the stairs.

Cas winced as Dean pulled him up a little too quickly, but he recovered. "C-couch, please," he murmured, voice small and dejected. Why was Dean acting this way? Even when he was mad, he never talked to Cas with such acidity. It was always just gruff. 

"Fine," Dean said, almost distantly. He led Castiel back into the house and over to the couch.

"I'll be outside," he said as he lowered Castiel down onto the cushions. "Kevin should be around. Ask him if you need anything."

Cas didn't even answer. He was too upset that Dean would even treat him this way. He curled onto his side, facing the back of the couch, and clenched his eyes shut tight. He didn't care if his ribs hurt from the angle. He just couldn't look at Dean's face anymore.

*****

The next week wasn't any better. Castiel continues to remain silent and Dean was even crankier and moody. He refused to spend any more time with Castiel than what was necessary.

Everyone around him—mainly Kevin and Sam were fed up and Sam was almost happy to be "escaping" as Kevin put it one night.

Cas didn't get it. He didn't understand how Dean could be so attentive one minute and then distant for the next week. It stopped making him upset and started making him angry. The boy embarrassingly had to get Sam to help him shower, but his touch was blessedly clinical. If he wanted to get upstairs, he needed one of the boys, and most of them weren't strong enough to hold him for very long. Cas was embarrassed and frustrated but he didn't know what to do.

Dean knew he was being childish, but he couldn't help it. Every time he was around Castiel, it just reminded he was he was losing.  Castiel still hadn’t said anything about leaving, but he hasn’t said anything about staying either.   He was cranky and pissed off by the silence from the boy and both of them were suffering from it.

One afternoon, Castiel was sitting by the piano, touching the keys gently, not even playing a song. He was too upset to focus. 

Dean had just come into the house from mowing the lawn.  Kevin and Sam had left to do some errands, leaving Dean alone with Castiel.   Dean spent most of his time outside, while Castiel remained inside, thankfully. 

There was a soft melody coming from the living room, deafening Dean to the boy he was purposely avoiding.  Castiel was sat on the bench, he back to Dean.  The boy could only play with his free, so it looked a little awkward, but he still kept the melody.

Dean didn't realize he was walking towards Castiel.  But by the time he did, it was too late and he was taking a seat next to Cas.

Cas tensed up and kept his eyes on the keys as Dean sat down. "What do you want?" he asked, dejectedly. He didn't think he could take much more of what Dean was doing. It hurt to no end. 

“It's nice you hear someone play on here," Dean ignored Castiel's comment and watched the boy's fingers move along the keys.  "No one's touch it since my..." Dean trailed off and looked at Castiel.

The boy pulled his fingers slowly away from the piano and rested his hand in his lap. He bit his lip and turned his face away from Dean's. he didn't think he could look into those perfect green eyes without crying.   

“My mom used to play for us; every night before bed or in the afternoon. You're the first person to play with her."  Dean didn't know why he chose to say that; Castiel probably didn't care who played the piano before him.  The story meant little to him.

Castiel looked over at Dean. The look on the man's face said this story was hard to tell. The boy sighed and leaned over, resting his head against Dean's shoulder. It was their first contact in days, but he figured Dean needed the support, the touch offered. "Will you tell me about her?" he asked softly.

Dean was silent, looking down at the keys.  He placed a hand down on the keys, gently bringing a sound out of it.  It's been such a long time since he talked about his mom; Sam and he had agreed a long time ago that it was easier to not remember.  No one had bothered to ask either.  But maybe if he came clean, Castiel wouldn't feel pushed away; he needed this.  It was his only chance left.

"I promised you in the hospital," Dean said quietly, remembering their conversation that day.  "I guess it's time I was honest with you."  Dean waited for Castiel to respond, but the boy just nudged his shoulder in encouragement. 

Dean sighed and inhaled sharply.  "There's not much to say, to be honest," Dean started.  "I was pretty young when it happened—six to be exact."  Dean stared at the keys as if ghosts of his past were pulling him away.  "Sammy was only two."

Castiel didn't want to say anything, didn't want to say the wrong thing. He listened and shifted closer, coiling an arm around Dean's and nodding against his shoulder. He kissed it and rested his chin there, gazing up into Dean's face, waiting.

"She was kind and gentle.  I just remember sitting here, next to her as she played.  I remembered the first time she let me sit with her: a kid at school had called me a name and I came home crying.  She just took me into her arms and told me she loved me and that I shouldn't listen to what other kids said about me.  She then asked me if I wanted to sit with her and she then played Brahms' Symphony No.3; she was learning it at the time."  Dean smiled as the memory played for him, but it didn't last long. 

"A year later," Dean paused and swallowed hard.  "She was gone; cancer.  She was diagnosed fast and went down even faster.  When I really think about it, I don't even remember her well.  It's been twenty years and I still miss her."

Cas started rubbing Dean's arm soothingly half way through his story. He didn't know what to say. How do you comfort someone who still feels the loss after two decades? They sat in silence for a little while, before Cas sat up a little straighter. He shifted his sling so he could use both hands. It wouldn't sound too great, as his cast was in the way, but he could manage. Pressing his fingers to the keys, he started playing Braham's symphony No.3. It was all he could think of to do.

Dean tried to smile but it came out more of a grimace. "Things didn't get better," Dean almost whispered, soft music playing around them. "Dad started drinking. We lost the house and started to live out of motels. I spent most of my time taking care of Sam. Dad couldn't hold a job for long so he was mostly out looking for work or at a bar," Dean spit out the last part. "I knew he was still mourning the loss of my mom and I felt it was my job to try and lessen his burden.  At sixteen I tried to rob a convenient store. Dad was gone for a few days and the money he left ran out. I was caught and put in a home like this." Dean looked around the room.

Dean looked at Castiel and placed his hand over Castiel's, stilling it on the keys. "The man, Sonny, gave me a home. Made me feel like I belonged.  I missed Sammy, but I felt like I had a home again." Dean felt a little guilty for revealing that he was almost willing to abandon Sam for his own selfish happiness. "Two months later my Dad came to get me. Sonny offered to fight for me. I was almost willing to say yes, but Dad brought Sammy with him. I knew as soon as I saw him, I couldn't leave him. I had to protect. So I left."  Dean paused again and looked at his hand over Castiel's. He tightened his grip and continued. "I sometimes regret it," Dean confesses. "But then I see how successful Sam has become and I remember why I did it."

Cas turned to Dean and held his hand with both of his own. "You're a good person, Dean," he said quietly. "A good brother. All these boys here.  They love you. You gave them a home. If you hadn't gone through all these hardships, they wouldn't have anyone. They wouldn't have a family." The boy pressed his lips to Dean's fingers. "If you ever feel like things should be different, just think about what you've provided them with. What you've provided me with. Your mother would be proud."

"Sometimes I wonder if I did make the right choice. People leave, Cas. They always leave me. My dad left. Sam's probably not going to stay too long once he becomes a lawyer.  We can't get too attached to the boys; they leave in the end." The last line was directed at Castiel. Dean was hoping to pull a response from the boy.

Cas' lip trembled. He wanted so badly to tell Dean what his plan was. The man needed to know, especially after what he'd just told Cas about. But the boy knew it would be better if he waited. So instead he just smiled weakly at Dean, almost apologetic, and lifted a hand to gently stroke his face. He traced the freckles under his eye and thumbed at a soft lip. He steeled himself to withstand the moodiness that would come within the next week. He couldn't wish for his birthday soon enough.   

Dean opened his mouth to say something but promptly closed it.  He wanted to ask Castiel what his plans were after he turned 18. He knew if Castiel asked to stay, Dean wouldn't hesitate to say “yes”.  But when he saw Castiel's apologetic smile something cracked inside Dean.  He knew in that moment there wasn't hope him.  Castiel was going to leave him, just like everyone else in his life.

"Fuck," Dean cursed quietly and stood up.  He didn't look at Castiel, but suddenly he wanted the boy away from the piano.  It was just another reminder what he didn't have and what he was about to lose.  The room started to feel too small, the air being checked out of him.  Dean hurried out of the room and upstairs, a place he knew would take Castiel a lot of strength to follow.

“Dean," Cas muttered when the man pulled away. "Dean, wait!" But he was already gone, fled to whatever part of the house Cas couldn't follow. He berated himself. He should have told Dean everything. It's the least he could have done after such a hard confession.

The boy pulled himself up from the stool, groaning as his ribs protested, and shuffled over to the couch. He laid down and tears swam in his eyes. Dean wasn't around to see so he let them fall.  

Dean ran up to his room, almost like a child.  He didn't slam the door—he refused to sink that low.   He was feeling hurt; betrayed.  Of course, his life would come crashing down, there was one thing Dean wasn't allowed: happiness.  It had happened at Sonny's, almost 11 years ago and it was happening all over again, except, he wasn't the one leaving.

It wasn't long before Dean was sinking to the ground, dejected and betrayed.  It had been a long time since he truly cried, but today he let the tears fall.  Today would be the only time he allowed himself this moment of weakness.  He had to be strong.  Dean Winchester was not allowed to be selfish.  His father had taught him that as soon as he was put in charge of Sam.  No, Dean Winchester lived for others.

*****

If Cas thought the last week was hard, he thought the next week was hell. Dean didn't come down from his room except to eat and yell at his brother. Sam knew it was all because Cas was "leaving". Sam, Cas, and Kevin all talked about it and they understood Dean would be this way until Cas came clean. It didn't make it any less hard. Cas cried himself to sleep every night, guilty for what he was putting Dean through, but also hurt because of how Dean was acting. 

Dean wasn’t fairing any better.  In fact, Dean was sure he was in Hell.  He was sure of it, the devil was real and torturing him for falling in love.

Dean hadn't seen Castiel much, either of the rest of the boys for that matter.  He made Sam or Kevin take Cas to his doctor's appointments, and only knew Cas' ribs and back were almost healed.  He noticed one night that Castiel had made it up the stairs for bed without any help.  He so badly wanted to congratulate him like the other boys had, but then he remembered why he was avoiding the boy and restrained himself.

*****

Finally, it was September 18th and just like Dean thought, the day didn't bring any happiness.  Castiel could leave today if he wanted to, no questions asked. 

Dean almost convinced himself that it would happen.  He spent a better part of the night lying awake and remembering all their moments together, especially the times Castiel had sneaked into his room.

As Dean sulked in his room, Castiel was being pulled out of his bed, eagerly being woken by Luke and Benny.  As excited the other boys were, Castiel only had one thing on his mind.  Today was the day he was going to tell Dean.  He didn't even care that he was another year older.  All he wanted was to tell Dean.

It was now nine o'clock and Dean reluctantly forced himself downstairs.  He knew he had to acknowledge Cas' birthday.  After everything they'd been through together, he'd be a dick if he didn't make an appearance.  That, and he knew Sam would be up here soon to drag his ass out of bed.

Dean was in a blue plaid shirt and jeans.  It may look like an ordinary outfit to everyone, but to Dean, it was what he was wearing when Castiel first came to him.

Luke helped Castiel out of bed, but he managed to get down the stairs by himself, clinging to the railing while the boys watched just in case.  When he reached the kitchen, everyone was already there, even Dean, and Kevin was handing out plates laden with chocolate chip pancakes.  He beamed despite himself and took a seat at the table.   

It was only when Cas sat down that he noticed what Dean was wearing.  He gasped to himself and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.  He wondered if Dean knew what he was doing or if it was just a coincidence. He very distinctly remembered that outfit. It was from the first day he was here. Maybe it was Dean's way of asking the boy to stay.

They all ate breakfast and then Sam left the room, coming back with a washing basket filled with gifts. 

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything," the boy protested. It made him panic a little bit.  He hadn't asked for anything and he hadn't wanted anything.  It squeezed his heart a little that they all cared enough about him to complete such an act of kindness.  It looked like there was one gift from each person and Cas could feel his eyes watering.  He hadn't received any gifts of any kind since his mother died.  And now suddenly, he had ten.

Cas thanked everyone for their thoughtful gifts, voice shaky and eyes wet. The gifts were only small - pens and books and his own spatula ( from Kevin) - but he was grateful for them all.

Dean had remained silent and almost still as Castiel opened his gifts.  Sam had asked him for his a couple of days ago, but Dean refused to give it to him.  He wanted to do it alone with Cas, not in front of everyone.  It wasn't because it was embarrassing, but because he wanted it to be private.  So tonight, once everything was done, he would give Castiel his gift.

Once the paper had been cleared away and the dishes washed, the boys ushered him into the living room to put on the DVD he'd just received.  It was a remastered version of The Wizard of Oz and all the boys were excited to see it.

Dean stayed in the kitchen after that, the basket of gifts mocked him.  He needed to escape, to go outside or something.  But it was an unusually cool day and going outside would be unpleasant; however comparing that weather to the current event, Dean would take outside.

Birthdays were never a big celebration for the Winchesters.  They often went unacknowledged, aside for a simple gift.  They didn't do that to the boys though, they tried to make it enjoyable.

 Today, though, Dean didn't care whose birthday it was—well actually he did.  It was because of the birthday boy he was in this mood.

*****

The rest of the day was nonstop moving. The boys had convinced Castiel to participate in a few video games and one baseball game, though Castiel sat out most of the time for the latter. 

Kevin had brought them a snack when it was lunchtime.  Instead of an actual meal, it consisted of chips, ice cream, and other foods.  They even watched one more movie and wanted to start another, but Castiel had to stop and take a break. He told the others he needed a nap to recuperate and they let him be.

He slept on the couch again, in case he woke up and the boys were watching another movie. He was prodded awake at dusk, told that dinner was ready. He has helped off the couch and into a chair again, and they all ate.

Dinner was filled with chatter and laughs, all except Dean, who sat moodily at the end of the table and picked at his meal. After the dishes had been cleared, Kevin brought out a huge cake. Castiel wondered how he'd made it without him knowing. He beamed and thanked Kevin for his hard work.

"Uhh guys," he cleared his throat and called out. "Before we eat this, I just want you to know how grateful I am. Not just for today, but ever since I came here. You've all been so kind and accepting. I've grown to love each and every one of you. Thank you for sharing this day with me."

He said nothing of his plans to stay. He wanted to tell Dean alone, surprise him, and he didn't want to be distracted by the others. He needed to see Dean's reaction.

Once dinner was over, Sam brought out the cake—that Kevin made. They sang a severely off-key version of 'Happy Birthday'; mainly none of the boys wanted to do it, even if it was for Castiel.

Dean refused his piece, claiming he only ate pie, which called out as a lie.

"It's cake, Dean. It's sugar; just eat it." Sam gave him a piece anyway, which went untouched by the older man.

After the cake dishes were cleared, the boys wished Castiel a happy birthday once more and filed up the stairs to bed. They all had school the next day and Sam wanted them to go to bed early.

Dean helped Cas up to his room.  Dean placed Cas on the bed softly.

"I love you," Dean whispered. He lifted Castiel's hand and kissed it. "Happy birthday," he said for the first time and smiled.

Cas turned his face to grin at Dean, his face still hot from crying, but eyes now dry. He shifted as much as he could without hurting and curled onto his side around Dean's arm.

"I got you something," Dean broke the silence. "Before all this shit happened."

"You didn't have to," Cas mumbled, squeezing the man's hand gently.

Dean propped himself up on his elbow, so he was hovering over to Castiel. "I wanted to." He cupped Castiel's face and pressed a gently kiss. This was their first time kissing since Dean began to push the boy—man, away and he was now apologizing. He bit Castiel's bottom lip, sucking lightly on it.

Cas whimpered at finally feeling his lover's lips on his own. He kissed back with fervour, humming when Dean sucked his lip into his mouth. 

Dean moaned into the kiss, deepening it. "Too long," the man groaned and shifted himself so he was straddling CastIel's hips. He knew he should be careful, bit he couldn't.

Dean's solid weight above him made the boy groan in anticipation. "Need you, Dean," he whispered hotly, bringing his hand up to touch the man's cheek. "Been so long. Need you in me. Please, Dean." He was begging and he knew it, but he couldn't help it after so long without touch. 

Dean’s cock hardened almost instantly. God, it really has been too long. He wanted to grant Castiel his request, but he remembered the other boys. "The others," he groaned.

“Are all in bed," Cas whined out, craning his neck to reach for Dean's lips. "Been so long. Please, I'll be quiet." He canted his hips up, brushing his hard cock against the man's own.

Dean gritted his teeth, suppressing a moan. Dean knew they shouldn't be doing it, regardless if Cas was eighteen now, he was injured still. But fuck it, he was horny and Cas was willing.

Dean rutted his crotch against Castiel's.  The friction was too great and Dean moaned out. "Shit, Cas. Too long. Need you," Dean panted out brokenly. 

"Take me," the boy uttered breathlessly, carding his fingers through the man's hair. He pulled Dean down gently for a kiss, long and sweet and slow, tongues dancing, before shuffling and bucking hips gently.  

Dean claimed Castiel's lips eagerly. He gripped the boy's thighs and hooked then around his waist.

"I don't want to hurt you," Dean whispered. He could feel Castiel's cast against his chest.

Cas' breath hitched when Dean shifted his legs and his hands trembled. "I'll be okay," he whispered. "I promise. Just be gentle."

Dean nodded and pulled Castiel up. He gently wrapped his hand around Castiel's neck and pulled at the Velcro of the sling.  The strap came loose and Dean maneuvered it off the boy's arm.

Castiel arm say heavily against his chest.  It was a bit of a disadvantage to only have one free arm, but worked with it, using it to pull Dean closer. He nipped and sucked at the skin at his jaw and murmured lovingly into the juncture.

"I've missed you," he whispered, legs clenching briefly around the man's waist.

"I missed you too," Dean mumbled against Castiel's neck. He started sucking the skin there, causing a red mark to bloom.  

Castiel gasped at the suction and curled his fingers into Dean's hair, holding him close and panting. "Please," he whimpered, not sure what he was even asking for. He tightened his thighs and shifted his hips, brushing their members together.

Dean reached for the first button of Castiel's shirt, pushing it through the hole.   He made quick work of the others and let the shirt fall open.  Castiel's chest was now exposed. Dean moved his lips down Castiel's neck and down his chest, occasionally biting and licking the flesh.  He momentarily stopped where Castiel's bandaged arm laid across his chest.  He moved over it and continued to place kisses down his abdomen. 

Cas flinched at the feel of teeth on his skin and moaned when warm lips met his navel. His dick twitched with interest, straining against his jeans, and he pushed his hips up in earnest. He didn't want to rush it, though; he was enjoying the pace. 

Dean smirked when Castiel bucked against him and squeezed the boy's member though his jeans. He then moved up and gently pulled Castiel into a sitting position. He cupped his lover's face, kissing him passionately before moving his hands to the boy's shoulder and pushed shirt off. It was a little awkward than usually since they had to get the sleeve over the cast, but the garment soon landed carelessly on the ground.

Dean slowly pushed Cas back and repositioned his hands on the waistband of Castiel's jeans.  "Lift," he ordered, once he had them opened, and pulled them over Castiel's hips as soon as the boy complied. Much like the shirt, Castiel's jeans and boxers landed on the floor.

Dean let his eyes travel over Castiel's body. He watched the boy's chest rise and fall quickly; his eyes almost completely dark

Cas' first instinct was to cover himself, not used to being laid out naked in front of Dean. It'd really been too long since Cas had been exposed. The boy refrained from hiding and instead blushed from his cheeks to his chest. Dean took his time looking over Castiel's figure, eyes probing where his fingers no doubt wanted to.

"Like what you see?" the boy asked cheekily.

Dean narrowed his eyes playfully and crawled over Castiel. "Mmm, very much," he mumbled, his face hovering only a couple of inches from Castiel.

He pulled so he was kneeling on the bed. He started unbuttoning his shirt, knowing tonight he would have to do most of the work, and he was okay with that.

He tossed the shirt away and moved back. His mouth was now hovering over Castiel's erected member. He licked his lips once before encasing his mouth over the heated flesh. He knew he should be tentative, but seeing Castiel spread out, all hard and leaking, Dean couldn't help it; he wanted—need Castiel now.

Cas held his breath as Dean hovered over him, all solid, warm flesh emanating comfort and safety. He breathed out again as Dean pulled away and closed his eyes. He didn't see Dean move toward his twitching cock, but once his tip was buried in the wet heat of Dean's mouth, the boy let out a strangled cry. His eyes flew open and he looked down his body to where his cock was disappearing into Dean's mouth. He couldn't control his breathing, so he was a mess of gasps and pants, squirming beneath Dean.

"So long," Castiel murmured shakily into the air above him. "So long since you've touched me. Need you, Dean."

Dean, encouraged by noises Castiel was making, relaxed his throat, allowing Castiel to slip in further. Dean hummed around Castiel's.  He smirked inwardly when Castiel bucked against the vibration.

"Oh, Dean!" Cas let out, stifling the volume. He brought his hands down to Dean's head, curling his fingers through the dirty blond hair and tugging gently. The sensations caused by Dean's throat and tongue were bringing the boy to the edge too quickly. He willed himself to hold on.  

Dean released Castiel with a pop. He chuckled when he saw how much his lover was struggling. "What do you want?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Want you," he reflexively answered. "Want you so close I can taste your soul." He didn't know where it came from, only that it was true. He peered up at Dean, brows in a worried stance and eyes glistening with need. "Need you, Dean. Need you in me." He coiled his arms around Dean's neck, willing him closer.

Dean nodded wordlessly and got off the bed. He quickly pulled off his jeans, along with his boxers. He retrieved the bottle if lube from the nightstand drawer and climbed back over Castiel again.

He snapped open the lid and pounded and ample amount over his fingers. His closed the lid and tosses the bottle aside.  He slowly circled Castiel hole, before pushing in slowly. It's been almost a month since they last been together, aside for shower hand jobs. Castiel was tight and Dean didn't want to push him

Castiel whimpered as Dean's slick finger circled his entrance. The soft sound quickly turned into a gasp as Dean eased into him.

"D-Dean," he whined brokenly. His cock was stiff and leaking against his stomach, pre-come dripping down his abdomen.

Dean thrust his finger a couple of times before adding a second. He circled his fingers, purposely avoiding Castiel's prostate and spreading Castiel open.

Cas whined at the stretch, the hot pleasure searing through his whole body. "More," he uttered without thinking. "Oh, God!"

Dean complied and added a third finger. He lightly brushed over the boy's prostate, causing the boy to buck and whine at the minimal contact.  "Shh, we'll get there," Dean soothed.

Castiel moaned in frustration at Dean's words, the man's fingers too much and not enough. The boy started bucking impatiently, rocking back onto Dean's thick fingers.

"So needy," Dean teased and pulled his fingers put of Castiel, just as the boy started a rhythm.

Cas whined at the loss and pouted softly. "Missed you so much," he gushed. "Wanted this for too long." He grabbed at Dean's waist, trying to get him to come closer.

Dean grabbed Castiel's hand, stilling it. He wrapped his hand around his cock, using the remaining lube to slick up his cock. Dean then lined himself up and pushed forward, looking directly into Cas's eyes.

Dean moaned out slowly, biting his lip to remain as quiet as possible. Castiel was tight and felt so good. The boy gripped him like a vice. "Fuck, Cas," Dean groaned and buried his face in Castiel's shoulder.

Cas whimpered at the feel of Dean's thick cock finally filling him. He loved the feeling of full that Dean brought upon him and he rolled his hips up. "Dean," he moaned out, carding shaky fingers through the man's hair. "So good, so full." 

Dean grunted in response. He gave Castiel a moment to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

Cas cried out as Dean began to move, muffling himself against the side of Dean's face. He wrapped his legs tightly around the man's waist and shifted so his hips were canted up, giving the man better access.

The shift in angle caused Dean to slide deeper. The pace was slow, but deep; Dean hitting Castiel's prostate each time.

It was a slow burn and Cas could feel his orgasm building. Dean's cock hit the right spot every time and it brought Cas to the edge. "Dean, gonna come soon," he managed to pant out. 

Dean whined and pulled back, looking at Castiel's face. It'd been too long since Dean had Castiel like this: spread out, beneath him, panting—begging. Castiel was already dangerously close to the edge and Dean wasn't far behind. He felt that familiar pull build up after a few more thrusts.

"Oh, fuck, Cas," Dean groaned, a little too loud. "So close, Cas. Come for me, baby," the older man gasped, punctuating each sentence with a deep thrust. 

Cas whimpered at Dean's words, gasping as each stroke pressed against that sweet spot. Dean's rumbling voice and harsh breaths were pushing him over the edge. He closed his fist around his throbbing member, and all it took was three strokes before he was tumbling over the edge, white hot stripes painting his chest as he clenched around Dean.

 "Oh, Dean, unngh!" he cried out, biting his lip to keep his voice down. 

Dean gasped, feeling Castiel tightened around him.  "Shit," he cried out, gripping the sheets next to Castiel's shoulders. He thrust a few more time, before coming, pulsing inside Castiel.

Dean's warmth curled inside the boy and he swore he could nearly come again just from the feeling.  Cas lifted his shaking arms and cupped Dean's face gently, pulling into a tender, loving kiss. Their slick lips slid over one another, tongues swiping into each other's mouths.

Dean pulled back from the kiss and pulled out of Cas, dropping next to him.  Dean pulled Cas to his side.  The only sound in the room was the quiet panting from both men.  "Fuck," Dean whispered and then smirked at Castiel.  "I've missed this."

“Me too," the boy smiled back. He nuzzled into Dean's neck and pressed quick kisses there, humming happily at each one. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?" he whispered against the heated skin.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while longer, just enjoying the feeling of having each other close again. 

Dean shifted and looked at the clock, which read quarter to midnight.  "How about I give you your gift," Dean suggested.  He didn't want to miss the opportunity to actually give Cas his gift on his birthday.

"That wasn't my gift?" the boy joked. "Because so far, it's my favourite."

“Cheeky bastard,” Dean just rolled his eyes and chuckled.  "Again, with the humour?" 

The boy just shrugged, and Dean got out of the bed.  He walked over to his dresser and pulled open the top drawer, retrieving a rectangle package wrapped in blue paper.

"Happy birthday, Cas," Dean said, handing the boy the wrapped package and climbing back into the bed.

Cas regarded the gift with the same care he would give Dean's hands. He held the package tenderly, almost scared of what could be inside.

"I haven't received gifts on my birthday since my mother passed," Cas said quietly, still staring at the gift.  "This morning, I almost cried. Today has been a lot for me, and I appreciate everything. So I want you to know, whatever this is, I already love it."

With a last, loving look cast Dean's way, the boy carefully unwrapped the package, discarding the paper on the bed beside him.      

Dean was silent as Castiel tore the paper off.  He never bought gifts for anyone, aside from Sam and Kevin.  But even Kevin, Sam would do the shopping.  This time, he actually picked out the gift himself, which was a collection of sheet music; the piano.

It appeared to be a leather notebook, but when Cas looked inside, he found pages upon pages of sheet music. He gasped, rifling through the papers to scan over the titles. Some were songs he'd never heard, others he had wanted to learn all his life. His eyes watered slightly at the thoughtful gift. Playing the instrument always reminded him of his mother, but he'd come to associate Dean with the sounds as well. The idea that Dean would provide him with the material to continue remembering, made the boy's heart clench with emotion.

"Thank you," he whispered softly into the dark. "I love it. I love you." He placed the book of music gently on the bed and shifted forward to surge into Dean's arms, curling his own around the man's middle and pressing into his chest.

"You can play it whenever you want," Dean explained, looking down at the current page and then at Castiel.  "I don't know if you know how to play all of them, but maybe you could learn." Dean didn't know why he was feeling embarrassed, Castiel has said he loved it.

"Dean," Cas whispered. "W-would you like me to teach you?" He blushed scarlet, hoping the man would react positively.

"Uh," Dean was a little stunned. The piano was always his mom's thing.  Neither he, nor Sam had ever educated the idea of learning. "I-I don't think that would be the best idea.  I like to think of this as you’re thing." Dean didn't want to make it feel like he was insulting Castiel's offer, but he really didn't think he could do it. He also didn't know if he wanted to.

Cas Smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to the man's cheek. "I understand." He went back to admiring the book of sheet music, moving up to rest against Dean's pillows. "It's a beautiful binder," he expressed quietly, running his fingers over the leather.

"Hmm," Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist. "Happy birthday," Dean said one more time just before the clock changed to midnight

"Thank you," the boy said again, pressing his lips to Dean's forehead. After a few beats, he asked, "Uhm... could I... uh...sleep here tonight?"

Dean gently carded his hand through Castiel's sweaty hair.  Usually this was the part where Castiel would have to leave, but not tonight.  For the first time he did what he always wanted to do: he let Castiel stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was the final chapter. It's finally done after all these years. To be honest, I fell out of interest writing this. I was writing it with my friend and she took this in a direction I wasn't interested with. Sadly, this is a story I'm not happy with, but I just wanted to get this done and not leave it unfinished. If you don't like this I won't be hurt, I'm kind of there.


End file.
